


The Last Dichotomy

by finn1013



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 96,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finn1013/pseuds/finn1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is overwhelmed by the demands of his destiny, and doubts his abilities will prevail as the time prophesised draws near.  Also explores the changing dynamics between Arthur and Merlin, once Merlin’s secret is revealed.  What will happen when Morgana returns?  Set straight after the end of S3.  Lots of bromance/friendship between Arthur and Merlin.  Some Merlin/Morgana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They’d done it. 

Evil had been conquered, and an immortal army defeated.  Merlin knew he should be relieved the threat had been vanquished, with his magic still his secret.  It had been ten days now since the battle, but he felt disconnected from the hope growing around him as as he watched Camelot began to heal.  Though he ached for it, yearned for it, inner peace and optimism were still way out of his reach. 

Hidden amongst the battlements on the far side of the castle, he sat against the unyielding stone wall, arms wrapped around his knees, head bent, his dark hair a rumpled mess in the frigid night air.  He’d been sitting in the same position for hours, it was well past midnight, his nose was red from the chill, he wore no jacket, he shivered.  His eyes were neither blue nor gold, but dark as the bleak night, and they watered both from the sting of the wind pounding his thin frame, and the thoughts tormenting his very soul.  And Morgana’s threat kept whirling around his mind:  _“This has just begun.”_

But that wasn’t true.  It had begun long ago, and once Arthur discovered Merlin’s beginning, he had no doubt it would also be his end.

**************************************

“Merlin, at last!  Where’ve you been?”  Arthur knew he should have kept the irritation out of his voice but it was early evening now, and it had taken seven servants and five guards over four hours to find Merlin and send him to Arthur’s chambers.  The prince’s tolerance for patience and understanding, never high at the best of times, was at a very low ebb.

Merlin shut the door behind him and leaned back against it, not venturing any further into the room.  “You wanted to see me?  Did I forget something?”  He knew he hadn’t, but he made a show of glancing around the room.  “Look, your armour’s clean, sword sharpened, clothes washed and put away, floor scrubbed, and I even mucked out the stables, without being asked!”

Arthur folded his arms across his chest.  “You mucked out the stables _unasked_?”  He eyed him closely.  Merlin had been acting peculiarly for more than a week, and Arthur couldn’t stand it much longer, nor could he _understand_ it.  They’d won, they’d defeated an immortal army, Camelot’s mood was one of optimism.  Arthur’s mood was buoyant, he was thriving on the new challenges he faced as Regent, and he washappy to finally be able to acknowledge his feelings for Gwen.  But the one cloud on Arthur’s horizon, and a rather large storm cloud at that, was Merlin, whose mood seemed to be the opposite of all of these things.

Arthur could not work out why this was so.

There was something going on with Merlin, beneath the surface Arthur sensed a darkness inside him, an edgy discontent.  Merlin was quiet at times, unnaturally so, often starring off at nothing when he had no idea Arthur was watching, and his eyes were expressionless and blank.  There was a simmering restlessness in his movements, he was tense.  He was nowhere to be found when Arthur wanted him, and it wasn’t just the prince he was avoiding because he was never with with Lancelot or Gwaine either.

Yet Merlin was trying, and doubly so, he served out his banter and smiles like they were dishes at a royal banquet, but Arthur knew him too well, and could see right through his charade, right down to the unhappiness lurking beneath his normal facade.  Part of him seemed so far away, unreachable, removed and remote.  Arthur couldn’t understand it, and he watched, and he worried.

Merlin hadn’t moved, he was still propping up the door, and Arthur guessed it was so he could make the quickest escape possible.  The prince stood up from his desk and walked across to the window.  He turned and eyed Merlin carefully, and decided to cut straight to the chase.  “There’s something bothering you.  What is it?”

Merlin’s face showed his surprise, he stumbled, unprepared.  “Uh, nothing, ... nothing, why should there be?”  He edged sideways, Arthur was sure the handle of the door must be digging into his back.

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking.”  Arthur rested a hand against the window sill.  “And I’m not the only one who’s noticed.  I’ve had Gwaine on my case sure we’ve had an argument and _very predictably_ threatening to beat me up, Lancelot actually glared at me yesterday when I told him I didn’t know where you were, Gwen’s annoyed with me, and even bloody Percival, of all people, asked me what I’d done to you!  As if I could do anything, you bring me breakfast in the morning and that’s the last I see of you all day!”

Merlin said a bit stiffly, “I hardly thought you’d notice, you have other demands on your time now my Lord, with your father still ill, and I –“

“You never call me my Lord!”  Arthur exploded.  He took a deep breath.  “Not in here, anyway, unless you’re trying to wind me up!”

“Well ... I don’t know what you want me to say!”

“Just the truth will do.”

“Just the truth ...”  Merlin toyed with the words in his head, thinking for a moment, and said quietly, almost to himself, “I wonder ... someone once told me that the discovery of truth will never damage a cause that is just.  Do you believe that, Arthur?”

“That’s very cryptic.”

“Yes.”  The faint trace of a smile, though Arthur noted it didn’t quite reach his eyes.  “The one who told it to me has a habit of speaking in such a way.  It’s very annoying.”

Arthur thought he knew almost everyone who knew Merlin.  “Who told you that?”

The smile disappeared instantly and Merlin eyes dropped to the floor.  “No one that you’d know.”

“Alright.”  Merlin still seemed to want to support the door, so Arthur walked over to him.  A pause.  “So, are you saying, in the battle of good over evil, that truth can be a casualty along the way?  That as long as the cause is just and good wins out, then a few lies here and there don’t matter if they are in support of the greater good?  The end justifies the means, no matter how achieved?” 

Merlin was a bit surprised that he seemed to have grasped the concept so quickly.  “Here I was thinking all Knights were a bit thick.  But I’m not saying anything, I was asking what you thought.”

“It’s good to hear, you think I _can_ think, Merlin.”  That got a small smile and Arthur was pleased with himself.  “But what do I think?  I don’t know, Merlin.  Are lies ever acceptable?  I couldn’t say, it would depend on the lie and the circumstance under which it was told.”

“I guess that’s better than a straight out, lies-are-bad-no-matter-what, then.”

“ _Mer_ lin?”  No reply.  “Come on, what is it you’re not telling me?  Have you lied about something?  It can’t be that bad.”  That had been the wrong thing to say, Arthur watched the shutters come down.

Merlin fixed his gaze on an area near Arthur’s shoulder.  “The truth is I’m tired, and uh ...,” his mouth twisted,  “I think I need a few days off.  I have to ... do something, maybe ... go somewhere ...”

Arthur frowned.  “No.  I think not.  We’re all battle-weary.  And tiredness is not what’s really bothering you.  You’re not going anywhere without me until you tell me what’s got you moping around the castle like a girl.  Your place is by my side.  I need you here.  For god’s sake Merlin, we won this battle.  It’s over!”

Merlin said fiercely, “It’s never over, Arthur, don’t you see!”  He pushed himself off the door and walked away from Arthur with quick, angry steps.

Arthur let him pace for a while and then followed and placed a hand on his shoulder.  “Stop.  And that is an order.  If you’re not going to tell me what’s wrong with you, then you can follow me around until you snap out of it.  Wake me tomorrow before dawn.  I expect you to remain in my chambers while I have breakfast.  Actually, bring something for yourself;  new routine Merlin, we will break fast together every few days.  Tomorrow, you’ll remain in my sight all day.  Then I need to see my father, you will be with me.  After that, target practice with the Knights.”

Silence was the reply.

Arthur sighed and dropped his hand away.  “Look.  Someone wise once told me, when I had lost all hope, that I had a duty to my father, and a duty to my people.  That Camelot needed me.”  He ran a hand through his hair.  “Well I need someone wise to ... tell me when I’m wrong, to give me .... courage, and strength.  This Regent thing is new to me, you know.”

The ghost of a smile crossed Merlin’s face.  “You think I’m wise, Arthur?”

“Sometimes.  It can’t be that difficult, all you need to do is think of something stupid to say, then say the opposite.”

Merlin glowered.

“Better.  Now, I’ll see you in the morning.”  He gave him a friendly punch on the arm.

“Ow!  What did you do that for?”

“Haven’t we had this conversation before, Merlin?”

**************************************

It was sheer chance that Arthur was standing at his window when he saw Merlin skulking in the shadows several hours later.  He’d given his manservant the evening off duty, rather than have him as a silent presence at the dinner he had with a visiting nobleman.  Rhoderic’s lands had been pillaged by Cenred’s army and he’d come to request aid from from Camelot.  Arthur had just returned to his rooms and was about to close the window, when he saw Merlin making his way across the empty courtyard, sticking to the shadows and ensuring he wasn’t seen. 

While Merlin being furtive and sneaking around wasn’t totally out of the ordinary, it only took Arthur a moment to decide he was going to see where his servant was off to.  Perhaps wherever he was going would help explain Merlin’s odd mood.

Grabbing his sword on the way, and using the deserted servant’s stairs as a shortcut, it took Arthur several minutes to get to the ground floor.  By the time he reached the courtyard, Merlin was nowhere to be seen.  Arthur cursed under his breath and took a gamble, making his way past the candle-maker’s shop on the far corner, and peering around the bend.

Crouching in the shadows by the shopfront, he saw Merlin in the distance, not far from the south gates.  He followed.  Merlin didn’t look back, he was concentrating on getting past the two guards on watch, and Arthur noticed with a frown that this was not too difficult when both men left their posts to check something that had caught their notice down a nearby alleyway.

Arthur slipped past them too while they were still distracted, carefully following his servant into the forest that started near the south gates.

Stalking Merlin through the forest was easy.  Not once did he look back, and he made as much noise as he usually did when hunting with Arthur.  He was totally focused on where he was going.

He wondered who Merlin was meeting, and he must be planning to meet someone, he’d hardly be going for a stroll at night.  Was Merlin in trouble?  He certainly was going to be in trouble later when Arthur confronted him about it; surely he had some idea how dangerous it could be in the forest alone at night. 

About half an hour from Camelot, Merlin stopped in the middle of a clearing in the trees.  This must be the meeting spot.  Cautiously, Arthur took cover beneath a leafy bush, pushing the branches aside and sliding noiselessly between them to ensure he was concealed.  He watched silently, hoping that whoever Merlin was meeting hadn’t seen him.

**************************************

Merlin’s thoughts were somewhat chaotic as he stumbled through the thick undergrowth.  He paid no attention to his surroundings, branches slapped his face, and he staggered once, almost tripping over a fallen tree.  It didn’t matter.  Thoughts of Freya bought a familiar dull ache, he wondered if the pain of losing her would ever go away.  He thought of Morgana and Morgause, of the destiny he shared with Arthur, what he had done, what he had yet to do.  Sometimes it was too much to comprehend.

He was in the middle of the clearing before he realised it, roaring his pain and unhappiness to the heavens and to the only one who could answer, _“O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes!  Erkheo, fultume!”_

He paced around while he waited for Kilgharrah, constantly glancing up at the sky.

It didn’t take long.  The dragon landed.  “You summoned me?”

Merlin rubbed at the tension in his forehead.  “Did she die?”

“The witch Morgause?  No.  She lives, but she is weakened.  She will not be a threat for some time.”

“But Morgana will.  She has all the motivation she needs: anger, betrayal, revenge.”

“Yes.”

Merlin tried to breathe.  “Does she know ... about me?” 

The dragon shook his head.  “She knows not.  Her sister barely lives.  But if Morgause recovers she may realise it was not Gaius who harmed her.”

Silence.  Merlin paced back on forth, his feet making tracks in the long, damp grass, his arms wrapped around himself.  Kilgharrah waited patiently.

“You know what must be done, Merlin.  The witches must die, both of them.  Or Camelot will fall.”

“I know.  I know that.”

“Yet still you hesitate.  I have warned you before, your determination to see goodness in others will be your undoing.”

“No, you’re wrong.”  Merlin was certain.  “I accept Morgana cannot be saved now.  I accept it, I know it.  But I had to give _her_ the opportunity to decide what was path she would follow.  The evil had to be _her_ choice, not my action.”

“You gave her too many opportunities to follow the light, Merlin.  You indecision over her risks the path of destiny, both yours and the young Prince.”

“I must do what I think is right and just.  I can do no more than that.”

“Then I applaud your courage.  But giving up on someone doesn't always mean you are weak.  Sometimes it means you are strong enough to let go.”

“Yes, I understand,” Merlin acknowledged quietly.  “But enough, I summoned you for a reason, Kilgharrah.”  He dug through the shoulder bag he was carrying and pulled out a wrapped object.  “The cup holds power equal to the sword.  Yet you did not caution me on that, why?”

“The cup is yours to command Merlin.  Do with it as you wish.”

“When the druid gave Arthur the cup, he told me to guard it well.  I failed.  But I will not let it happen again.”  He unwrapped the cup and held it out.  “Your magic is unlike any I have sensed.  If you enchant it to remain hidden, then it cannot be undone by anyone.”

“Except by you.”

Merlin nodded slightly. “Yes.”  He stepped closer to the dragon and held the cup aloft, shutting his eyes as he felt the power of the dragon’s enchantment wash through the air around him.  Arthur was mesmerised.  The air around Merlin shimmered sparkling gold, thousands of tiny specks of light swirling and dancing inside a mini-whirlwind.

When the light slowly faded away, Merlin shook his head.  “That was weird.”  He rubbed his ears.  “Uh.  I feel like I have water in my ears.”  He shook his head again, brows creased, then looked up at the dragon.  “Now, I need you to take me to the place where it will be hidden.”

“I have told you previously Merlin, that I am not a horse!”

“Yeah well, you’re better than one, actually, although possibly more temperamental.”  Merlin actually smiled a little, tipping his head at an angle as he made his way over to the dragon.  He clambered up onto the long scaly neck, and leant over to look into the dragon’s eyes.  “Come on, then, and -“ he held on with one hand, and gave the dragon a thump with the other “-giddy up!”

“ _Merlin_!”  The dragon gave an indignant snort as he flapped his wings, sending a sharp gust of wind through the clearing and into the trees where Arthur crouched hidden.  He took off with a lurch as Merlin scrambled to hold on.

“Hey, watch it!”  Merlin’s complaint drifted down from the sky, and as the dragon and Merlin flew away, Arthur felt like he was awakening from a trance.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It was a long time before Arthur felt the bitter damp of the cold ground ground leaching through pants and driving a chill into his body.  He sat motionless under the dark canopy of trees.  He had not been aware of the absence of the sounds of the night until they slowly returned once the dragon and Merlin had departed.  He could hear them again over the sound of his own harsh breathing, small animals rustling through the undergrowth, cicadas chirping again, their lives returning to normal now the Lord of the Forest had departed.

And Arthur wondered, their lives may be normal again, but what was normal for him now?.  That Merlin was a dragonlord was the obvious conclusion he reached within moments of the dragon’s arrival:  who but a dragonlord could could command a dragon?  Who could speak with a dragon without becoming the creature’s next meal?  Who even knew a dragon could speak, because he had, and he had a name, Merlin had called him Kilgharrah.  He’d even teased him, in the same way he bantered with Arthur.

But although he felt complete and utter astonishment at this discovery of his manservant being a dragonlord;  with some wonder he realised that revelation came almost secondary to the conversation between the Merlin and the great beast.  What on earth was that all about?  It hinted that Merlin’s involvement in ... things  ... was more than Arthur had perceived.  What was Merlin doing?  What had he already done?

As a drizzle of rain began to work its way through the trees, Arthur realised he had been sitting there for some time, his mind spinning round in circles.  Without conscious thought, he found himself walking back to Camelot, and if the guards at the entrance were surprised to find their Regent strolling unaccompanied through the gates in the middle of the night, it took only one look at his face before they remembered their training and did not offer any comment on it.

He made it to his chambers without attracting any further notice, kicking off his muddy boots and sitting down heavily into the chair by fireplace.  He gazed absently into the still-smouldering flames that Merlin had lit some hours ago. 

How did he feel?  He was shocked, well he had been, but now as the fog in his mind was clearing he remembered Merlin’s unusual grief at Balinor’s death which now of course made perfect sense.

 _No man is worth your tears._

He’d thought his tears were for Camelot, but they weren’t just that, they were also for his father, and his loss.

Oh Merlin, why didn’t you tell me?  But he knew why, why would’ve he?  What would Arthur have done with the knowledge?  He knew without a doubt he would not have told his own father.  While being a dragonlord was not exactly illegal, Uther would have made Merlin’s life difficult if he’d known, he may have even had him executed, eventually.  Arthur knew he would have done what he could to protect Merlin from his father, and that would have meant keeping Merlin’s secret.

Yet the events with Balinor seemed so long ago.  He’d long considered Merlin to be his friend _now_ , but was _he_ a friend to Merlin, particularly back then? 

Another idea occurred to him.  Was this discovery he’d just made been the reason for that cryptic conversation they’d had earlier about truth and lies?  Had Merlin been preparing to tell him?  But if so, why, and why now?

He had come to the realisation long ago that Merlin was not the open book he’d once thought he’d been.  There were secrets within him that Arthur wasn’t privy to.  But their friendship, and that was what it was, Arthur acknowledged, had not been build around deep, meaningful discussions of thoughts and feelings.  He cringed slightly at that idea.  Arthur was a warrior, he preferred action and movement to introspection and self-discovery.  Yet the friendship he had with his manservant was the sum of a million little things, and that was what made it what it was, complete, at least he hoped it to be so.

He’d never really admitted it before, and he’d certainly never said it to Merlin, but Merlin was his friend.  He only hoped that Merlin considered Arthur to be his friend too, but .... did he?  Was it friendship or duty that bound Merlin to him?  Arthur was surprised how much the thought troubled him.

Well if Merlin hadn’t wanted to admit to being a dragonlord then that was his prerogative.  But still, that didn’t meant he wasn’t going to not say _anything_ about what he’d discovered to Merlin.  And he was going to ask Merlin some direct questions.  Somewhat grimly, he wondered if it would be a true measure of his manservant’s trust in him as to what responses he received.

 

**************************************

Merlin barged in his usual manner into the Arthur’s darkened chambers, stopping on his way to the window to drop the breakfast tray on the table.  After his talk yesterday with Arthur, he’d decided he needed to do a better job of being his normal self today if he wanted to escape further notice.  He drew back the curtains, and turned to say cheerily, “Rise and shine lazybones, it’s time to get –“  He stopped, as he realised Arthur was not in bed but sitting in chair beside the dead fire.

“Arthur?  You’re up already?”

Arthur stood and stretched, yawning.  “As you see.”

Merlin eyed the breeches and shirt the Prince was dressed in.  “Weren’t you wearing those clothes yesterday?”

“Your powers of observation never fail to astound me, Merlin.”

Merlin frowned.  “Is something the matter?”

“Should there be something wrong?”  Arthur wandered over to the table and picked an apple off his breakfast plate, polishing it on his shirt.

“Well, it looks like you’ve been up all night, and for someone who really needs their beauty sleep so they don’t scare off-“

Arthur pitched the apple at his chest and Merlin caught it deftly and took a bite.

“Hey, that’s meant to be my breakfast!”

Merlin flashed him a well-you-did-throw-it-at-me look, and shrugged.

“What about you, Merlin, how did you sleep?”

Merlin threw him a cautious glance.  There was something odd in Arthur’s tone .....  He swallowed.  “Fine.”

Arthur sighed.  “Actually, I was up all night because I was _thinking_ , Merlin.”  He held up his hand.  “No, I know what you’re going to say, but if you do, I may develop a sudden urge for moving target practice.”

Merlin groaned. 

“I need a bath, so I want you to bring me some water and get me a change of clothes.  Then,” he paused thoughtfully.  “I want to talk with you.”

Merlin coughed around his mouthful of apple.  “Arthur, why does that sound like a threat?”

 

**************************************

It was Arthur’s nature to act first, and consider the consequences later.  It was this instinct that made him a formidable adversary in battle, the ability to react to a threat in a split second, to read an opponent in the blink of an eye and know instantly what to do.

But Arthur had other instincts too, and if his battle-honed instincts were the result of years of training and experience in war, no less developed were his instincts perfected by years of hunting:  the ability to stalk his prey, to watch and wait, and to know when the timing was right to take action.

So as much as part of Arthur’s innate personality wanted to confront Merlin, demand to know why the bloody hell he hadn’t thought to mention he was a dragonlord, why he’d lied and told him he’d killed the dragon in the first place, and not to mention what the _heck_ that conversation he’d overheard between them was about - he didn’t.

He did nothing.

He allowed this second skill-set, the one that urged caution and patience, to over-rule the urge to yell and command, because Arthur wasn’t sure if the timing _was_ right to take action, and he was even less sure what action he should take.

Arthur knew what outcome he wanted: truth and honesty from Merlin, but he didn’t know how to get it.  With his authority as Prince, Arthur could demand truth and honesty from Merlin by confronting him with the knowledge of Merlin’s secret.  But Arthur wanted this to come from friendship and trust, not fear or force, for Merlin’s friendship could be the price if force was used, and that price was one Arthur would not pay.

Merlin was his friend.  And if he was keeping a secret of that magnitude from Arthur – well, maybe it was less to do with Merlin’s betrayal by omission, and more to do with something in Arthur’s character he found lacking, something wrong within Arthur that meant Merlin felt he could not trust Arthur with this truth. 

Arthur wasn’t going to be like his father, a king who garnered the obedience of his subjects through hard rule and fear.  He believed a good leader must first become a good servant.  And a great king should be trusted by his subjects, yet Merlin, one of the few people he thought would trust him completely and unconditionally, quite clearly, with this omission, did not trust him, not at all.

This realisation produced an odd pain in his chest that wouldn’t go away.

Arthur had thought about it all night.

 

**************************************

A short time later, Arthur had bathed and dressed in fresh clothes.  He felt strange, a little disassociated from himself, like he was watching his actions from a distance.  But he harnessed the years of court training and lessons learned from managing his father, and assumed his usual composure.  He motioned to one of the chairs beside the fireplace and said to his manservant, “Take a seat.” 

Merlin stopped poking unnecessarily at the re-stoked fire, and sat down with obvious reluctance.

Arthur linked his hands across his lap and settled back in the chair.  He came straight to the point.  “Do you feel that I am your friend, Merlin?”

Merlin blinked.  “Uh, if this is going to be about _feelings_ Arthur, then I should tell you, you are mistaking me for Gwen.”  When Arthur just continued to look at him seriously, Merlin stilled.  “Yes, I do,” he said awkwardly.

“Merlin ....” Arthur hesitated.  “You know I trust you, don’t you?”

Merlin fidgeted.  “Is this about yesterday?  Because, if it is, then forget it.  I was just in a weird mood, it didn’t mean anything, don’t worry -”

“ _Mer_ lin.  Do you trust me .... with all your secrets?”

Oh god.  Merlin felt the colour draining from his face.  What did Arthur know?  Was it about the magic?  It had to be, what else could Arthur think his secret would be?  Did Arthur notice he’d only bought cold water up half an hour ago and magically heated the bath water?  No, it couldn’t be that, he was never that observant and anyway he was wanting to “talk” before then.

Frantically Merlin tried to think the last few times he’d performed magic, but no, it couldn’t have been any of them, he’d been very careful to remain unobserved.  And he’d had over three years of practice, he knew he was good at concealing what he had to.  He said carefully, trying not to show his alarm, “Secrets?”

“There are things about you, things you’ve done, that I don’t know about, aren’t there?”

“Like ....?”  Merlin tried to swallow down his panic at where this was leading.

“Like ... I was wondering, if you had any thoughts as to how we defeated an immortal army.  For the second time, that is.”

“Oh.  Um ...”  Thank god, it wasn’t about his magic at all.

“And you and Lancelot.  After it was over, you came in the opposite direction to the watch bell.  Why was that?”

“It was a bit difficult to get to the watch bell, Arthur, there was an immortal army in the castle after all!”

“Is there something you’re not telling me, Merlin?”

Merlin folded his arms carefully and tried to look untroubled and relaxed at this interrogation.  “What is it exactly, that you want to know?”

“I want to know how we defeated an immortal army.  What caused them to just vanish?”

They traded stares and Merlin looked away first.  “Their power came .... from Morgause’s enchantment.”  This was true enough in a way.  Merlin thought further and volunteered in a rush, “She was injured in the fight, and I emptied the blood of Cenred’s men contained within the Cup of Life and so the army just ... vanished.”

Ah yes, the Cup of Life.

“That sounded fairly simple.”  Arthur waited and Merlin fidgeted.  “So Morgause was injured .... how?”

“Oh ... blow to the head, I think.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, well, she threw me up against the wall, I hit my head pretty hard so I can’t remember it all.”

“Who else was there when this happened?  Just you?”

Merlin hesitated then shook his head.

“Lancelot?”

A nod. 

“Anyone else?”  Merlin looked uncomfortable.  “Gaius was with you and Lancelot when we met up later.  Was he there, when you were with Morgause?”

“He arrived near the end.”

“Anyone else?”

“Uh, not really, not when she was thrown, uh, injured.”

Arthur let that one go ... for now.  “You are a veritable fount of knowledge today, Merlin.  Why exactly is it that you haven’t mentioned any of this before?”

“You never asked!”  A long silence.  “So, how about I go polish-“  Arthur held up his hand and Merlin sank bank into the chair, not bothering to try and disguise his groan.

“So who injured Morgause?”

“Umm, well ...”

“Come on, was it Lancelot, you or Gaius?”

“We all had a share in it.”

“So Gaius and Lancelot would tell me the same thing?”

Merlin looked a bit sulky.  “Yes.”

“And the Cup of Life would be .... where exactly?  Safe in the vaults of Camelot?”

Merlin winced, then bit his lip, hesitating.  “No.”  Reluctantly, he looked directly at Arthur.  “It’s at the Isle of the Blessed again.  I took it there, last night, and that’s where it is.  It’s perfectly safe.”

“Hmm.  You took it there last night.  That’s almost half a day’s ride each way ... yet you’re back here, already.”

“I ... had a very fast horse!”

“I’ll bet you did.”

Merlin swallowed visibly and twitched, his gaze skittering around the room randomly.  “Uh, now that we’ve got all that cleared up, then how about I go and polish –“

Arthur held up a hand.  “Not yet.  What exactly did you mean by _again_?”

A croak.  “Again?”

“You said it’s at the Isle of the Blessed _again_ , Merlin.”

Merlin slumped further down in his chair.  “Oh, that.  Um, that’s where it was before, you know, before the druids gave it to, um, us.” 

“I could ask you how you know that ... but I won’t ... yet.  I’m not sure I want to hear the answer.”

Merlin slid even further down his chair.

“So if you, or Lancelot, or Gaius, or all three of you, injured Morgause – and I am not even going to ask you how that was possible, since she is a very powerful witch – then how did she disappear?  We searched the entire castle, she was nowhere to be found.”

For a long moment there was silence between them.  Then Merlin bit his lip nervously, took a deep breath, looked directly at Arthur and said simply, “I suppose you will believe me now if I tell you.  Morgana took her sister, Arthur.  She has magic.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin shut the door to Gaius’s chambers and sank down at the table, head in his hands.  “Oh god.” 

It was evening now, and had been the longest day of his life.

After Arthur’s grilling this morning he’d done everything he could to avoid him but for some perverse reason of his own Arthur had insisted his manservant was a constant and necessary presence by his side.  He’d made him sit through the council he had with the few remaining older Lords in the castle.  Then, Arthur had insisted he contribute in the meetings he had with key townsfolk to discuss how to repair the damage done by the siege.  After that, he’d even made him visit Uther’s sick bed and _participate_ in the one-sided conversation the Prince had with his confused father, if trying to calm Uther’s chaotic ravings could be called a conversation. 

And to top it off, he kept catching Arthur casting long, speculative looks his way, eyeing him like he was a some sort of strangely complicated puzzle he hadn’t quite figured out.  It was making Merlin _very_ nervous;  he knew that look of focus in Arthur and when he hadn’t even been distracted by Merlin’s desperate inclusion of Gwen in their happy little gathering for several hours after lunch, Merlin knew he was in _serious_ trouble.

“Merlin, is something the matter?”  Gaius put down the potion he was mixing and looked with some concern at his ward.

“Yes.  No.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

Head still in his hands on the table, he mumbled, “It’s nothing really.  Just ... Arthur made me tell him how we really defeated the immortal army and Morgause, and ... about Morgana’s magic, and ... how the two of them are sisters, and ... the Cup of Life and ... how I uh, took it to the Isle of the Blessed last night to hide it. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Gaius echoed faintly.

Merlin looked up wearily.  “At least I managed to keep Kilgharrah, my magic – and yours - out of it.”

Gaius was at a bit of a loss.  “Yes, I suppose we can be thankful for small mercies.  But I thought you were quite good at keeping secrets.”

Merlin dropped his head in his hands again.  “Arthur knew something, I don’t know how, but I could tell, there was something weird about him .... god Gaius, I can’t face another day with him like that tomorrow, I’ll probably ... do something stupid.  What am I going to do?”

Gaius looked at him sympathetically.  “Why don’t I send you out to collect more herbs tomorrow?  I do actually need some of the rarer medicinal ones that are more than an hour’s walk away.”

“Great, I’ll go really early in the morning and get some other poor servant to bring the prat his breakfast.”

 

**************************************

A good night’s sleep, then a day with only his thoughts for company, had not brought the tranquillity Merlin had expected.  He’d presumed he’d be able to return to the castle by mid afternoon, cool, calm and composed, problems nicely solved and sorted.  Instead he was still stomping around in the forest near dusk with a sick feeling of dread knotting his stomach, and an ache of grief he was trying not to acknowledge.

Seeing Freya again recently had opened a wound he thought had healed, the raw pain he felt for her loss again was almost as acute as it had been first time around.  He would have left Arthur and Camelot for her, way back then.  But he was stronger now, a different person to the one he’d been when she died, now he would never abandon Arthur.  Now he really understood the fate of Albion did rest upon his shoulders.

He wondered, sometimes, if losing her was a lesson he had to learn so he would go back to obediently following his destiny.  It took the better part of the day, but he was able to muster the enormous self-discipline necessary to put thoughts of her aside for now, he stored her memory away deep down inside him, for he must focus on immediate threats, once again.  He tried not to feel any anger and bitterness, or the sheer loneliness of having no one to _really_ talk to about any of it, ever.  There could be no time for self-indulgence, there never was.

He thought about Arthur.  Had it been wrong to tell Arthur about Morgana’s magic?  He thought Uther might have already known, but the King was too confused at present for Merlin to ascertain that.  Merlin hadn’t wanted to tell Arthur, but for purely selfish reasons.  Giving Arthur another example of the evils of magic, particularly from an until-a-month-ago-loved family member, would hardly dispose him favourably to Merlin when he found out Merlin’s secret.  And Merlin feared that revelation could not be put off much longer. 

Morgana would be back, and it would be sooner rather than later.  She would not lurk in the shadows, she’d only be satisfied with a theatrical demonstration of her magic that resulted in Arthur’s very public death.  He was sure of that, and it was only confirmed by Uther’s repeated ramblings earlier about how she wanted to make her father watch Arthur die at her hands, then kill him too.  Arthur had needed to know about Morgana’s magical abilities so he’d take the threat she represented more seriously.

Merlin doubted very much that his own magic could remain hidden when he was forced to prevent Morgana’s plan coming to fruition.  Arthur would know, Uther would know, everyone would know.  Even though he’d be saving Arthur with it, his magic would not be met with favour or approval.

Merlin did not fear the pyre or the gallows any longer, his power had increased to such an extent during the past year that such an easy death would not befall him unless he consented to it.  And he would not allow it, not straight away anyway, not if there was a chance that Arthur may forgive him his sins.  But regardless, it would severely wreak havoc with his destiny and the prophecies if Arthur hated his guts.  And Merlin didn’t know if he had it in him to continue if the reason for his existence was so completely messed up. 

By mid evening, when he walked back through the castle gates, he’d already decided that he had to see Kilgharrah again that night.  He could have spoken with Gaius of course, but he preferred to only touch the surface with him, it wasn’t fair to burden Gaius with his problems.  Kilgharrah for all his cryptic ways usually had something wise to offer.  He was beginning to understand what his father had said so long ago about his soul being linked with Kilgharrah, his bond with the dragon was growing deeper as their friendship solidified.  And he wanted the companionship another creature of magic would bring.  He felt so alone.

It was already well after the time he’d normally bring Arthur his dinner, he’d deliberately waited that long so there was no need to see the prince.  He knew Arthur would give him a grilling about his whereabouts and Merlin did not want to deal with that now.  He spied Gwaine as he passed the Rising Sun tavern, but he carefully bent his head to avoid notice, and tried to blend in with others going about their daily business.

He fled gratefully to the safety of his room where Gaius was waiting for him.

 

**************************************

By mid-morning Arthur was frustrated and cross.  He’d hoped after his discussion with Merlin yesterday, and the time they’d spent together, that Merlin would be relaxed enough to, if not actually open up and talk to Arthur about whatever was on his mind, but at least be around and available again.  While Arthur wasn’t exactly expecting a confession about the dragon straight away he thought Merlin would be back to normal, somewhat.

But Arthur had come to the realisation some time ago that things with Merlin were never quite that simple.  So in a way it was hardly a surprise when a new servant came in with breakfast that morning, the prince understood perfectly that he’d been abandoned by Merlin, yet again.  It was both incredibly exasperating and entirely predictable.  Couldn’t Merlin understand that Arthur wanted him by his side because he was worried about him?  Didn’t Merlin see his concern?

It didn’t help Arthur’s temper when he found that Gaius had sent Merlin into the forest to look for plants.  Arthur wasn’t sure if that was true, or an excuse made to cover Merlin’s absence.  But by late afternoon, with still no sign of Merlin, Arthur’s frustration was ready to boil over.  By early evening, the frustration had been replaced by a gnawing unease and worry that something had gone wrong.  What if he’d gone to see the dragon again and the beast had turned on him?  Not to mention bandits, wild animals, magical creatures or Morgana could all be lurking in wait for him.

Arthur had retreated to his chambers to think it over and wait for Merlin, who really should be bringing him dinner right about now.  He was on the verge of convincing himself that sending a search party into the forest was not in any way an overreaction, when Gwaine entered into his chambers to say he’d seen Merlin return.

Arthur was ready to explode.  “I hope you told him I’ve been looking for him all day!”  He knew it wasn’t Gwaine’s fault, but he was there so Arthur glared at him anyway.

Predictably, Gwaine wasn’t bothered by this.  “I didn’t speak with him.  I know he saw me, but he did his usual avoiding-eye-contact thing he’s up to lately, and kept going.”  He looked at the prince seriously.  “Arthur, I know you’re going to want to stomp over to his rooms and confront him now, but you can’t.”

Arthur didn’t want to listen to any advice, especially not from someone who could possibly beat him in a fight.  “And why not?”

“I know as well as you do that something is not right with him lately.  I’ve given him space, I hoped he’d talk about it when he’s ready.  And he’s not ready.  You can’t force Merlin.  If you know him like you should, then you should know that.  He has reasons for his secrets and you must respect them.”

Arthur frowned and looked at him sharply, calculating.  “Secrets?  You know what’s bothering him, don’t you?  Tell me.”

Gwaine wasn’t intimidated.  “Merlin has never taken me into his confidence.  I hope he will when he’s ready.  He’s the most loyal person I know, Arthur.  And you know he’d do anything for you.  He’s the first friend I ever had and I love him like a little brother.  And that’s why I’m telling you to back off now, you want to yell at him and have a royal tantrum but it won’t work, you’ll drive him away.  Think about it.  He’s avoiding you, me, Lancelot, Gwen, all his friends.  You’re a prince but that doesn’t mean everything is always about you, Arthur.  Think about Merlin instead.”

Arthur’s mouth compressed.  He didn’t want to acknowledge that Gwaine was right, but he was.  It was really annoying.  “Alright.”  He crossed his arms and frowned at Gwaine and made a split-second decision to trust him further.  “Then I need your help.”

*************************

Nearly midnight, and it was a few hours since Gwaine had left his chambers.  It was a measure of the Knight’s concern for Merlin that he’d agreed to Arthur’s plan so quickly.  Arthur wasn’t completely clueless.  Gwaine have sworn his allegiance to Arthur as a Knight of Camelot but he knew if it came down to it, Gwaine’s loyalty lay firstly with Merlin, and _that_ was why he’d agreed to Arthur’s request.

Arthur was still dressed.  The knock on the door when it came was expected, but the surprise was that it was Lancelot, not Gwaine.  Lancelot looked unsure.  “Gwaine said to tell you,” Lancelot hesitated.  “That he needs you to meet him right now outside the Rising Sun.  He said you’d know what it was about.”

Arthur was off with a speed that left Lancelot rushing to follow.  “Sire, I don’t think Gwaine has been drinking, he’s not in trouble.  He caught me down the corridor.  It’s something else.”

They found Gwaine outside the tavern near the south gates.

“Where is he?”

“Sneaking off as we speak, Arthur.  We need to hurry.  Is he-” he nodded in Lancelot’s direction, “-coming with us?”

Lancelot was curious.  “Whatever you’re doing, of course I am.  What are you doing anyway?”

Gwaine answered, “We’re following Merlin.”

“Ah.  No.  We shouldn’t.”

Arthur didn’t bother to conceal his annoyance.  “Come on, Lancelot.  You know there’s something wrong with him.  And it’s nothing I did!  I thought you’d want to help him.”  He said to Gwaine, “Did he look like he was going out the south gates, again?”

When Gwaine answered in the affirmative, Arthur nodded.  “Then I know where he’s going.”  He addressed both of the Knights.  “If you want to help Merlin, then come with me now.”

It was impossible to get past the guards at the gate without being seen, in the end Arthur resorted to threatening them with dungeon duty as well as double-shifts guarding Uther for the next six months if they revealed to anyone that he was leaving Camelot’s grounds. 

As they were passing, Gwaine asked the men brightly “Anyone else go out tonight?”

When the answer was in the negative Arthur frowned, and oddly, Lancelot doubled his efforts to stop their pursuit.  “Sire, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Arthur ignored him and Gwaine murmured non-committedly.  They followed the road, sticking to the shadows at the edge of the forest to hide their presence from Merlin, who they could only just see far off in the distance.

Lancelot was becoming agitated.  “This is a very _bad_ idea.  Merlin’s perfectly entitled to go for a walk at night by himself.  He’ll be fine.  Let’s go back.”

Arthur turned to the Knight.  “Shhh!  He’s going to hear us following him.”

Silence for a moment from Lancelot;  Arthur knew that disobeying his prince did not come easily to him.  But then, “Sire, we should go back.”  A pause.  “What if there are bandits out here somewhere?  We have no backup.”

“Well we can hardly leave Merlin to them, can we?  And you just said he’d be fine.”

“So call out to him, and get him to come back with us?”

Arthur turned on Lancelot and pointed a finger in his face.  “And to think I’ve said Merlin was the one that prattled.  Lancelot, shut up.  If Merlin sees or hears us following him, so help me, I’ll put you in the stocks tomorrow, Knight or not.”

There was silence for a moment from Lancelot but it didn’t last.  He tried a different approach, stopping at the edge of the road and grabbing onto Arthur’s arm.  “Sire, please.  You must go back.” 

Arthur sighed and shook his arm.  Lancelot didn’t let go.  Gwaine was watching this, slightly puzzled.  Arthur kept his voice low but the threat was evident.  _“Lancelot?”_

The Knight didn’t back off.  “I insist, Prince Arthur.”

Arthur wasn’t Camelot’s first Knight for nothing, he had Lancelot on his back in the dirt with a hand pressing over his mouth in seconds.  After a moment’s shocked surprise Gwaine joined in to quash the rebellion with more enthusiasm that Arthur thought was strictly necessary. 

Arthur hissed in an undertone, his hand still over Lancelot’s mouth.  “You don’t understand.  I’ve bought you both –“ he glanced at Gwaine “- here tonight, because you’re going to discover a secret Merlin has been keeping for some time.  I’m trusting you because you’re his friends.  It’s a big secret, but remember, you know Merlin.  Don’t be afraid of him, it doesn’t change him.  Merlin needs someone else to know.  And I’m going to force his hand.”

Lancelot’s eyes widened and his struggles to free himself stopped abruptly.  Seeing this, Arthur took his hand away.

The Knight massaged his jaw, wincing slightly.  “Sire?  You already know?”

Arthur just nodded and watched him carefully, ready to keep him from calling out again if he had to.

“And you haven’t executed him, you haven’t banished him .... you really don’t mind?  I can’t believe it.  Does Merlin know that you know?”

Arthur rocked back on his heels and bushed the dirt off his pants.  “He doesn’t.  I was hoping he’d tell me, when he’s ready.  But Lancelot –“ Arthur’s thoughts caught up with Lancelot’s words.  “You know!  You know already, don’t you?  He’s already told you!”  Arthur knew he sounded hurt.

Lancelot understood.  He sat up.  “It’s different with you, sire.  You’re the prince, after all.  And we know what would happen to Merlin if your father ever found out.”

Arthur shuddered in agreement.  “He never will, he’d want him executed.”  He stuck out a hand and pulled Lancelot to his feet.

Gwaine had had enough.  “Is someone going to tell me what this is about, or am I the only one who’s going to qualify for the special Merlin surprise?”

Arthur exchanged glances with Lancelot.  He took a deep breath and answered bluntly, “Merlin’s gone off call the great dragon again tonight.  He’s a dragonlord, Gwaine.  That’s what I’m taking you to see.”

Gwaine looked dumbfounded at this proclamation but Lancelot’s reaction was completely puzzling to Arthur.  Initially he seemed stunned, then he paled in horror.  “That’s his secret?  Oh no, oh no.  No!”

“I thought you said you knew!”

Lancelot swore uncharacteristically under his breath then he straightened and looked at Arthur fiercely.  “You’ve got it wrong!  You must go back to Camelot now sire, I don’t care if you put me in the stocks, I insist!”  He appealed to Gwaine.  “Gwaine, you’ve got to help me, you have no idea, this is not right, not at all, you can’t spy on him, it’s not honourable!”  He turned in the direction Merlin had gone, taking a step forwards, trying to spot him in the distance.

But the expression on Lancelot’s face had been warning enough, and Arthur leapt on him again, forcing him down, shoving a hand over his mouth straight away and grinding the side of his face into the dirt, but even with Gwaine’s help, Lancelot was difficult to subdue.  Arthur was just relieved Merlin was so far in front of them by now that he wouldn’t hear the battle going on behind him, unless Lancelot got loose enough to shout out.  The three of them rolled around on the ground, Lancelot was fighting so viciously Arthur knew without Gwaine’s strength he wouldn’t have been able to restrain him enough to keep him from yelling out.  But they did, eventually he was gagged by his own undershirt which they’d torn strips off and stuffed in his mouth, and his hands were bound around his back by Gwaine’s belt.

He lay on the ground again, his chest heaving, glaring at them with so much fury Arthur was taken aback.  He massaged the bite mark on his palm.  For a Knight to attack him in such a manner could be considered treason.  And Lancelot, of all people, was the last person he’d expect to do it.  But it was clear to Arthur that personal animosity was not behind Lancelot’s attack, but why he felt so strongly about not following Merlin was not something Arthur could understand.  But it didn’t change what was going to happen, they were still going to follow Merlin.

With difficulty, they managed to get Lancelot to his feet.  Arthur kept several paces ahead, watching out carefully, while Gwaine dragged their prisoner through the undergrowth.  Lancelot wasn’t making it easy and Arthur’s frustration was increasing.  He stopped and turned around, grabbing the front of Lancelot’s shirt.  “I’ll tie you to a tree here, or you can come with us.  Your choice.”

Lancelot gave him an a fierce stare but jerked his head grudgingly in the direction Merlin had taken. 

They kept going, quieter this time, picking their way carefully around bushes and beneath branches, dull moonlight filtering between gaps in the canopy to guide their way.  They were almost at the place where Arthur had crouched only two nights ago when they heard the roar of sound and gibberish as Merlin began to call the dragon.  It made the hair on the back of Arthur’s neck stand up, and it startled Gwaine so much that he crashed into Arthur’s back and almost sent himself pitching to the ground.

They all stopped for a moment, frozen.  Then Arthur recovered, and led them to his hiding place.

They watched and waited.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin began the call before he was out of the trees, his pain his only known companion.   _“O drakon, I_ _ácíege on unc_ _nú mín woruldfréond, æledléoma bryne, harké tó mé!  Mín fæderencyn!  Kilghárráh!”_

The words roared out of him, not understood by his unknown audience, but the anguish in them was apparent.  Indifferent to his surroundings, he stumbled over his own feet, barely catching himself before he fell.  He bent over, hands gripping his knees, shoulders heaving, but whether this was from exertion or distress Arthur did not know.  They all waited.  It was quiet and still, with only the harsh sound of Merlin’s breathing breaking the silence in the clearing.

A short time later, the huge beast soared down from the grey sky, sending a gust of wind through the trees as he landed.  Arthur could see Merlin make a visible effort to regain his composure, taking a deep, shuddering breath and straightening his shoulders as the dragon landed in front of him.

“Your heart is troubled, Merlin.”

Merlin wondered if that were true.  Sometimes his heart felt numb, a great deadened lump in his chest.  Or was it a raging ball of fire consuming him?  He couldn’t tell, neither or both, he didn’t know.  He ignored the comment and said absently,  “Arthur is asking questions, it’s unusual.  He never asks.”  A sudden thought occurred to him and he frowned and looked behind him, back into the trees.  “Was I followed here?”

“You could use your own gifts to find out.”

Merlin grumbled predictably, “You know I can’t do that when you’re nearby, I’ve tried it before, all I get is a dragon-sized headache for days, you’re like a big lump of magical interference, I can’t sense anything.”  He asked again, “Now, is anyone nearby, will you be seen?”

The dragon looked directly at the spot where the three men were hiding, and said thoughtfully, “What passes here tonight is foretold, Merlin.  You may continue without fear.”

Reassured, Merlin seemed to accept that, and nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.  He began to pace up and down, the long grass flexing beneath his feet.  The dragon waited patiently.

When Merlin finally spoke his voice was low and measured, controlled.  “Kilgharrah, I don’t really know, why I called you, tonight.  But you ... you are a creature of magic, perhaps the last of your kind.  Do you ever feel ... overwhelming loneliness ... for the companionship of those who know and accept your true nature?”

The dragon considered the question.  “Merlin, in temperament and disposition, dragons are solitary creatures.  We have never been reliant on the company of our kin;  the truth is quite the opposite.  You ask me this, I know, as you fear the reaction of the young Pendragon when he uncovers what has been hiding in in the light.  But what you fail to understand, is that such discovery is necessary in order to forge the path for the time of Emrys and the Once and Future King.  That time is fast approaching, young warlock.  There is no stopping it.”

That wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but he feared it was true.  There was a long silence, and Merlin rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands.  He was tense.  “Yes.  The Fisher King too, told me such.  He said the new time is dawning, the time of the Once and Future King.”

Then dropping his arms, and looking directly at the dragon, Merlin said a tight voice, “It is happening too quickly, and I am not prepared for it!  It is too much responsibility, too much!”  His control was slipping again, but it couldn’t, he could never be weak.  He sunk to the ground in front of the dragon and dropped his head in his hands, clenching his fists, trying desperately not to give in to this failing.

Sitting on the cold, damp earth, he rocked slowly back and forth, but it didn’t help, nothing could, nothing did, not anymore.  His skin felt tight, he wondered if he might explode from the knowledge, the expectations, and from the torment of it all.  “Kilgharrah, I am not enough for this task that is expected of me!  You must know it!”

“Merlin ....” the dragon’s voice was kind.

Impatiently Merlin scrubbed at his eyes.  “I could barely defeat Morgause this time, she almost triumphed!  There have been too many times when she’s almost won, or some other threat has almost defeated us, when Arthur has come close to death, or Camelot nearly fallen.” 

Unable to sit still, he stood up unsteadily, pacing erratically back and forth on the damp grass, his voice a harsh monotone, barely in check.  “My judgement is poor, the consequences of my mistakes are great, and people continue to suffer because of it.  I cannot protect Arthur properly.  My defensive magic is nothing but instinctual, my understanding of it is weak, and what I can do is extremely limited as I _must_ remain in the shadows.  My healing magic is patchy at best; Arthur nearly died because I couldn’t cure a simple arrow wound, twice!  And when Arthur finds out, about me, which he will, one day, because Morgana will know soon, he will never, ever, accept me for what I am.  Or what I can do.  Or what I have done.”

He clutched his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking.  His world was fracturing, the cracks were intensifying, and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.  Soon it would all be shattered in a thousand jagged shards, beyond any hope of repair.  It would all be gone, and he’d be more alone than he’d ever been.

“Merlin.”  The dragon was silent for a long moment and then said with concern, “You cannot escape your destiny, neither you, nor the young Pendragon.  Your power is great, but most of it is yet untapped.  Regardless, you will prevail.  Trust yourself, you know more than you allow yourself to believe.  But to have the total sum of all knowledge within you now, would be too much for even someone of your great strength to handle.” 

Merlin didn’t respond, he didn’t want to, he couldn’t.  He didn’t want to think, to feel, to know, it all bought too much pain.

The dragon exhaled, steam rising from his snout and disappearing into the crisp, night air.  “The time long prophesised, is fast approaching.  You and the young Prince are two halves of a whole, neither can be complete without the other, the last dichotomy.  The time is _very_ near, for him to discover the truth about that which you have always concealed.  You cannot escape your fate.”

The great beast looked pointedly into the trees, directly at the place the three men were hiding.  “However, the young Prince has more courage than you give him credit for.  Your burdens are to share.  His strength will be yours.  There are others too, who are a part of the destiny you share.  Two have known your truth for some time and another suspected from the day he met you.”

There was another long silence, and the tremors shaking Merlin’s thin frame gradually eased.  Eventually he looked up again at the dragon.  “ Who is the third?”  The dragon was silent.  “Lancelot is not Arthur, Kilgharrah, and even he knows very little, I would not burden him with it all.  And I cannot believe you.  I will not tell Arthur about the magic, I can’t.  I’ll only start letting my guard down when there are no more reasons to keep it up.”

“That,” said the dragon, “may be sooner than you think.”

Merlin shook his head in rejection.  “And what of Freya, Kilgharrah?  She told me how to save Camelot and Albion, she gave me back the sword.  Yet she is dead.  Was it her magic that bought her back, or that of the Fisher King, or was it more?  I do not understand how it can be.”  He didn’t try to hide the tears in his eyes.  “Tell me, will I ever see her again?”

“I wish I had some words to comfort you, Merlin.  Your pain over her troubles me.  But I cannot give you the answers you seek, I do not have them.”

Merlin wiped at his nose, and his voice betrayed his distress.  “It was my fault, she died, Kilgharrah, she came between me and this destiny.  And I let it happen, I put her first, I would have walked away from it all to be with her.  But destiny trapped me back.”  He tried not to sound bitter, but the tears escaped again, he let them.  “Her death was my punishment for straying from the path, it was my fault, mine alone.  But why, why did it have to be like that?  Why, Kilgharrah?  Tell me!”

The dragon stretched his long neck out, his head within a handspan of Merlin.  He said gently, “I’m sorry, my young friend.  I do not like to see you suffering.”

Merlin reached out and touched the dragon’s bumpy scales, stroking them absently.  Kilgharrah was warm, like the fire inside him.  He bent his head and rested it against the dragon’s snout, closing his eyes, his back to Arthur.  His hand continued to move slowly over the dragon’s scales, the movement seemed to soothe him, and eventually after some time, the tension in his shoulders eased.  The dragon exhaled, and then Merlin stepped back, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly, though his eyes still looked sad.

“You’ve been eating cattle again, haven’t you Kilgharrah?  I can smell them on your breath, well cooked too, huh?”  The dragon looked down at him but didn’t speak, Merlin smoothed his hand in unhurried, circular movements over the dragon.  “I hope that wasn’t around Camelot or any of the neighbouring kingdoms, you know I’ll get in trouble for it if you’re seen.”

“I am ever vigilant, Merlin.”  He raised his head, Merlin’s hand dropped away.  “I know you seek a distraction from your pain, but know this: the more you care, the stronger you will be.  And I advise you again, you must allow yourself to trust when it is requested by one who is worthy of it.  Destiny did not bind you to your prince without reason.”

"Alright, alright!”  It came out roughly with a hint of impatience, and Merlin cleared his throat.  Shoulders hunched, he began to pace again with weary steps.  “I don’t want to discuss it further.”  He sighed.  “I need to concentrate on Arthur and Albion.  I must put aside my own concerns and focus on what must be done.  Morgana will be back soon, very soon.   When she was biding her time in Camelot before she overthrew Uther, she would not risk using her magic openly.  But now she has nothing to lose.  I have told Arthur of her magic but I am afraid I will not be able to protect him without exposing my own abilities."

“I fear that may be true.”

“Then there is no way out of this for me.  My truth will be my downfall.”  He covered his face with his hands, head bent, anguished.  Another lengthy silence.  “She will go after them all, Arthur, Gaius, Gwen, Lancelot, Gwaine, all the Knights, every last one.”  He wiped his eyes roughly, dragging the sleeve of his shirt across his face.  “Then I have no choice, I cannot risk them, it will be done.  But the personal cost is great, Kilgharrah.”

The dragon acknowledged this with a nod, and waited.  Merlin swallowed and took several deep breaths in an attempt to regain his control.  “I have...  considered this situation for some time.  There is much to be done, I must become more skilled.  I need to know more defensive magic, but I cannot practice, not properly.”  His mouth twisted.  “Not without exposing myself but that will not matter much longer.”

Kilgharrah offered, “Then practice on me.”

“Won’t that hurt?”

“Merlin!  You may be powerful but your magic will not injure me!”

Merlin grimaced.  “I didn’t mean you!”

The dragon was amused despite himself.  “Of course.  But we will need several days.  There is much to learn.”

“I don’t have the time.  I don’t know when Morgana will attack so I can’t be away from Arthur for more than a few hours.  We’ll do it now.”

“Now?  Here?”  The dragon was doubtful.  He glanced into the undergrowth.

“Yes.  There’s not much room but it will have to do.  I’m sick of thinking about everything and I need a distraction.”

Merlin paced back and forth again, unable to keep still.  “I’ll shield the entire clearing so we don’t damage the trees, and screen the top so we’re not visible from Camelot.”  He stretched his arms out to his sides, the palms of his hands up, and his eyes glowed.

Silent, Merlin turned in a circle and reached out to the sky, he tipped his head back and the gold in his eyes darkened and flashed like a strike of lightening, momentarily lighting up the entire clearing, banishing the night and bringing back the day for an instant.  When the light disappeared, the shield was visible as a muted glow around the edges of the field, endless tiny sparkles of gold covered by a lid of starless, grey moonlight.

Merlin stopped, taking a few deep, calming breaths and pinching the bridge of his nose.  He closed his eyes for a long moment, head down.  “Now try to _not_ dig up the grass too much, we must leave no trace of your presence.”

“You should not do this if you cannot concentrate, young warlock.  It is too dangerous.”

Merlin ignored the advice.  “Alright, my defensive magic is weak because I have to conceal it so I do not use it often, so it’s never anything big.  Morgause was able to hit me in the back because I was careless, and she almost knocked me out. I want you use your fire on me while I shield, I need to be able to do it instantly without fail, always.”

“Are you certain you wish to do this, Merlin?  If I hurt you the healing process my take some time.”

“It must be done.  Now!”

A blast of fire shot from the dragon’s mouth towards Merlin.  But just as it engulfed him he vanished then re-appeared immediately on the opposite side of the clearing, not far from where the men were concealed.

Arthur’s mouth dropped open as the blood rushed from his head, he staggered and almost fell over Lancelot, he felt dizzy, almost faint.  How had Merlin ....?  How was that possible?  He’d ... he had moved too fast for him to see.  Beside him, Gwaine cursed low and fluently under his breath.  Lancelot didn’t make a sound, whether that was because he was still bound and gagged and couldn’t, or was too shocked, Arthur didn’t know.  Guiltily, he bent over and unbuckled the belt binding Lancelot’s wrists, and the Knight took the gag out of his mouth and shot a furious glare Arthur’s way.

Merlin held up both hands, waving them at the dragon.  “Stop, that didn’t work, I couldn’t maintain the shield.  Too hot.”

Kilgharrah twisted his long neck around towards him, curious.  “What did you do, when you moved?  Did you slow time, or speed it up?”

“Neither.  I stepped outside of the time that binds the earth and into one of my own making, so I had as long as I wanted to get out of the way.  If I’d merely slowed time, or sped it up, you may have been able to follow me, am I correct?”

The dragon regarded him intently.  “Young warlock, time was still an infant in her cradle when I first began to fly around this earth.  I have never heard of any man nor beast, nor creature of magic, who was capable of creating a new time, let alone one specific to them and them alone, Merlin.”

Merlin frowned.  “So you’re saying that’s unusual?”

Kilgharrah snorted and answered flatly, “Yes.  How did you do it?  You didn’t incant, I would have heard you.  And your eyes barely glowed, Merlin.  It didn’t look like it took much power.”

Merlin bit his lip.  “It doesn’t take much power, Kilgharrah.  It’s everyday magic, easy.  I’ve been able to do it since I was seven or eight.  I don’t know how, I made it up.”  He stopped at looked up at the dragon, their practice session forgotten for the moment.  “But I need to be careful with it, too.  Once, when I was younger, and my control of it was poor, I accidentally went back too far by several hundred years.  It was terrifying, Ealdor wasn’t even there then, there were no people, it was just a dark forest.  I scared myself so much it took me a few days to calm down enough to get back.”  He shivered at the memory, then half smiled.  “I did get in a lot of trouble for that.  But you didn’t answer my question, if I’d only slowed down the earth’s time, or sped it up, could you have followed me?”

“You speak very casually of advanced magic, young warlock.  Only the most powerful can slow down or speed up time, and only then with much planning and complex incantations, and because of that it is not magic used in reaction to a threat.  Yet you speak of it as such.  Could I have followed you?  Perhaps, for a while.  But there would not be many who could.”

Merlin looked up at him, crossing his arms over his body.  “There is one more thing I have not told you.  When creating my own time, I discovered while in it, I can move forward in the time of the earth.  I tried that too, as a child, but will never do so again.  It is more terrifying than the powers of the crystal, though the images are less distinct.  The crystals show individual futures, this was very general.  I saw buildings that stretched to the sky, creatures that flew in the air with men controlling them inside, and long dark lines all over the earth that stretched from horizon to horizon.  I was there in that time, only once, as a child, and I almost could not find my way back, the threads guiding me were so thin.  Was it the future of this land, Kilgharrah?”

The dragon was troubled.  “Yes.”

Merlin looked expectantly at him, but Kilgharrah was silent.  “Don’t worry, I stay mainly within the earth’s time now, give or take a few hours here and there.  And I don’t do it all that much, because of the side-effects.”

“What side-effects, young warlock?”

Merlin smiled at him.  “It’s a choice, you see, as to who gets the headache after I return.  If I move into the time I create, the ripple effects when I return to the earth’s boundaries seem to cause a headache in everyone in the near vicinity.  I’ve thought of shielding people before I go to stop it but I haven’t had much opportunity to try it out, and it seems a little mean to experiment and perhaps cause unnecessary pain.”

He continued, “And the opposite is true if I slow down or speed up the earth’s time, if I’ve taken too long sometimes when I return a migraine can completely incapacitate me.  I was counting on you being a dragon to not feel discomfort, so I chose to move into my own time and save myself pain.  It does mean I need to be careful what sort of time I use though, if I need to change it to protect Arthur.  It’s much easier he’s not close by.”

“You are full of surprises tonight, Merlin.”

Merlin shrugged.  “I didn’t know.  I haven’t properly discussed it with Gaius recently, he doesn’t like it when I play around too much with magic, he worries too much that I’ll be discovered.”

He thought again for a moment, grateful to be side-tracked.  “I think changes to time may be related to teleporting magic, I’ve seen Morgause teleport but I can’t do that, I wasn’t in the frame of mind to remember her incantation when she did it.” 

That was the time he’d poisoned Morgana, and despite the necessity, he still grieved for what he’d done.  She wasn’t fully evil then and he’d known it.  His capability for ruthlessness, his ability to mercilessly kill someone who was a friend, even if it was to save all Camelot, was something that still disturbed him.  It changed how he thought of himself, he hadn’t known until then he was capable of such cold-blooded brutality in order to serve his purpose and protect what he must.  He knew of Kilgharrah’s hate for Morgana, and wondered if the dragon’s motives had been pure when he’d told him there was no other way.  He should have found another way.  He wondered if his own actions, his treatment of her, had shaped her into the person she was now.  He feared they had.

The recollection sobered him again. The dragon was watching him. “Kilgharrah, none of that matters right now.  I can shield this clearing easily so the magic doesn’t escape, but I can’t shield defensively very well, and such shielding is meant to be fairly basic to master.  I need to be able to shield myself, and Arthur, and anyone else Morgana may target.  We need to keep on with this.  You’d better tell me if you start to get a headache.  Don’t stop until I say.  Now go!”

Back to business, a flash of fire and Merlin vanished and reappeared, and another and another.  Arthur felt dazed by what he was witnessing.  It seemed completely incredible.  Was this person who darted across the field, who could offhandedly discuss the pros and cons of changing time, and moving independently of it, really Merlin?  Gwaine mumbled something incoherent beside him, but Arthur took no notice, all his attention was on Merlin.

The dragon moved, fire flashed, and Merlin sped from one spot to another, too fast for Arthur’s eyes to follow.  Again he moved, and again.  But the ninth time the pattern changed, when the dragon shot fire Merlin held up his hand, his eyes glowed and he whispered a single word, “ _Amundae!”_

A ball of energy appeared around the warlock, the dragon’s fire blazing harmlessly around it.  Arthur could see Merlin starting to look like he was enjoying himself.  “Actually, that shield was pretty easy after all.”  He waved his hand, his eyes glowed and the fire disappeared.  The dragon coughed and looked annoyed.  Now openly grinning, Merlin said, “Uh, sorry?”

“You are a better opponent than I first gave you credit for, young warlock.”

As Merlin seemed more relaxed, Arthur’s apprehension at this display grew.  The dragon didn’t look at all relaxed to him, the great beast seemed to grow in seriousness which Arthur did not think would bode well for Merlin.

“Alright.  Now I’d like to try something with swords, I use them when I can in battle and no one ever notices.  I didn’t bring one with me, but I do have a dagger.”  He plucked a dagger from his belt and unsheathed it.  “This will do.  Ready?”

Another flare of gold and he tossed the weapon into the air.  It spun around and sped faster than an arrow towards the dragon, too fast for Arthur to follow, stopping in mid-air in front of the beast’s eyes.  The dragon and Merlin exchanged glances and the dagger flew back, faster than before, Merlin’s eyes glowed and the dagger shot to a stop, quivering in mid-air in front of him, inches from his face. 

Merlin smiled slightly, a challenge, and then Arthur could see nothing but a blur of movement as the dagger shot back and forth repeatedly without striking either opponent, until with a rapid turn too fast to see, Merlin stepped to the side and caught the weapon with one hand easily.  “Stalemate, Kilgharrah.  Let’s try again.  This time make sure you shield yourself.”

And it was on again, but this time Merlin darted around the clearing, vanishing and reappearing as the dagger zipped from one side to the other, and even Arthur could see the dragon was beginning to struggle to keep up with the warlock’s quick movements.  Then all of a sudden, eyes blazing, Merlin threw his hands up and shouted “ _Bídsteall!_ ” and the dagger shot to a stop in front of the dragon and dropped to the ground.

Merlin tipped his head to one side and regarded the dragon cautiously.  “Did I just penetrate your defences?”

“Not quite.”  The response was a bit petulant.

“Oh.”  A pause.  “Do you want to continue?  I’d like to go back to the using fire again, Morgause uses it, I want to see how long I can hold the shield and try some defensive magic on you at the same time.”

“Your concern is misplaced, young warlock.  Begin.”  And he shot a ball of fire again, but with a single word and a flicker of gold Merlin stopped it as easily as he had before.

From within the shield, Merlin spoke.  “I’m going to see how long I can hold it.  Do whatever you can to break through.”

Again the dragon sent his flames, the fire burned and twisted, whipping around the shield, nudging and stabbing as it tried to find a weakness in the barrier.  It reared up and arched down, surrounding and pressing, trying to find a way in.

“Hey, not near my feet!  What did I say about the grass?  You’re not going to get through there anyway, the shield goes beneath the ground!”

The fire grew in intensity, fierce and aggressive, tongues of hell blazing, the heat radiating off and warming the entire clearing, an inferno around him.

Merlin smiled at the dragon again.

He yawned, and stretched.

Then he turned his back on the dragon, and scuffed the tip of his boot with deliberate nonchalance against the earth.  “Come on Kilgharrah, are you really trying?”

The dragon crept closer, then with one quick movement he lurched up and swung a huge foreleg at the small figure on the ground in front of him.  It was too much, Arthur knew what would happen, he’d seen it before and it meant death, he found himself recoiling in horror, the words ripped from him, “No, no!  Merlin!  No!”

Arthur was shoving Lancelot aside and tearing through the bushes before he realised the sound was coming from him.  He saw Merlin twist in astonishment at the interruption, then freeze in sheer dread at the sight of the prince.

Then it all went to hell.

**************************************

 _“O drakon, I_ _ácíege on unc_ _nú mín woruldfréond, æledléoma bryne, harké tó mé!  Mín fæderencyn!  Kilghárráh!”  OH DRAGON, I CALL ON YOU NOW MY FRIEND, FIRE BURNING, HARKEN TO ME!  MY KIN!  KILGHARRAH!_

 _“_ _Amundae!”  PROTECT_ __

_“Bídsteall!”  HALT_


	5. Chapter 5

In an instant, the dragon’s foreleg connected with the back of Merlin’s shield.  Instead of severely harming Merlin as Arthur had feared, the huge beast was blasted backwards across the clearing into the air for several yards, before hitting the ground with a thud that made the earth shudder in protest.  He skidded several metres across the damp ground, shearing the grass away from the earth in great moist clumps.

Arthur was knocked over as the surge of magic in front of him recoiled and the shields around the clearing vanished.  The stars returned.  Arthur lay on his back, staring up from the ground in disbelief at the very unharmed Merlin.  Merlin stared right back, stunned, his eyes wide and burning a deep, rich, gold.

“That was rather unexpected.”  The dragon rose and flapped his wings experimentally, clearly none the worse for wear.  “It would be safe to assume your defensive magic is coming along nicely, young warlock.”

Merlin still hadn’t moved but the gold in his eyes vanished, his gaze was still on Arthur, looking like _he_ was the one who had seen an apparition from the depths of hell come bearing down on him, ready strike him down dead and rip him apart from limb to limb.

Arthur recovered his voice first, getting to his feet and glaring at the dragon.  “You were sneaking up behind him!  You could have killed him!”

The dragon was unconcerned.  “A dragon cannot kill a dragonlord, young Prince!”

Merlin jerked in astonishment at Arthur’s statement, his face pale.  He still seemed incapable of speech.  His chest rose and fell rapidly in his agitation as he tried to process the impact of Arthur’s discovery and the loss of his secret.  Then his eyes shifted behind Arthur at Lancelot and Gwaine, who had emerged from their hiding place and were making their way forward onto the field.

Merlin shot Lancelot a look of betrayal, then another thought occurred to him.  He turned on the dragon, “You would have known they were there when you landed!  Exposing me was not your decision to make!”

The dragon said calmly, “This time of discovery was foretold in the stars many eons ago, young warlock.  I am as much a servant to destiny’s wishes as are you.”

“Well, that’s just great!  Thank you so much, Kilgharrah!”  Merlin glared at him, then his gaze was drawn back against his will to Arthur.  All of a sudden he felt drained, his anger and panic receding as quickly as they’d appeared, he turned away, his shoulders slumping, head bent.  Then Gwaine was clapping an arm around him and giving him a brotherly whack on the back, and Lancelot was beside him.  Merlin risked a glance at Lancelot, shamefaced.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”  The Knight put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

Gwaine stepped in.  “Merlin, mate, don’t worry about it.  This has been the most memorable night I’ve had for a while.  You’re full of secrets, aren’t you?”

Merlin winced.  “Not so much any more, it seems.”  He was aware that Arthur had reached him now, but after that initial shock he found he couldn’t look at him again.

“Merlin?”  Arthur’s voice was neutral, Merlin stared at the smudges of dirt and grass on the ground like they were the most fascinating things he’d ever seen.  He was starting to feel a little sick.  “Are you alright?”

Merlin tried to speak, it didn’t work, he cleared his throat.  Eyes still downcast, he mumbled “Yes,” and when Arthur’s boots moved into his field of vision he was forced to look up at the Prince.  He focused on an area roughly parallel to Arthur’s right shoulder and swallowed.  He didn’t understand why Arthur hadn’t knocked him down flat.

He tried to focus, Arthur was speaking.  “I saw you with the dragon two nights ago but I didn’t realize you had magic until tonight.  Will there be a trifecta?”

Taken aback, Merlin looked at him blankly for a moment then croaked, “Uh, no.  No more surprises, not from me.”

Gwaine ruffled his hair.  “Well, as Lancelot and I both knew about the magic, but not the dragon, then I guess we’re all even again.”

“I didn’t tell you about the magic – oh.  Oh.”

“The plates in the tavern, mate, they were flying pretty quick.  And I couldn’t be certain, but I was fairly sure I’d seen your eyes change colour.”

“That does give it away, Merlin,” Lancelot smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder.

Merlin tried to smile back, but it was more of a grimace.  He was starting to feel really ill, his head was spinning unpleasantly.  Was he in shock?  Under the grey moonlight, his face paled and he staggered slightly.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, and turned to the dragon.  “What’s wrong with him?”

“The magic he used to throw me was enough to demolish half of Camelot, young Prince.  He merely needs a few hours of rest and he’ll recover completely.”

“I didn’t mean to do it,” Merlin said sullenly.  “Arthur startled me.”  He frowned and put a hand to his head. 

“Remind me to never, ever surprise you Merlin, I don’t think I’d live through the experience,” said Gwaine, putting an arm back around his shoulder.  “Come on my friend, let’s get you back to Camelot so you can rest, you look half dead on your feet.”

“I’ll help him,” said Arthur, shouldering Gwaine out of the way.

“No, you don’t have to, I’ll be alright.”  Merlin took a step back from both of them, then swayed, confused.

Arthur gave a huff of exasperation, forcibly taking one of Merlin’s arms and slinging it over his shoulder.  “Shut up, Merlin.”

Merlin was finding it difficult to stay upright, he didn’t resist, and allowed himself to lean against Arthur, trying to fight the strange rushing sound that was making his head spin.  He suddenly remembered the churned up earth in the clearing.  He twisted around, Arthur turned with him, and Merlin’s eyes glowed, but instead of the ground smoothing out and grass repairing, hundreds of daffodils began to sprout from the mounds of earth all over the clearing.  “Oh no,” he groaned and clutched his head, slipping unintentionally into the old language, “Kilgharrah, _edníwe_ _sé græd_?”

“Yes, young warlock.  Do not be concerned, I will take care of it.”

Merlin nodded, and then stilled in horror.  Oh no, the daffodils, he’d just done magic in front of Arthur, this wasn’t good.  Had he noticed?  Why was Arthur here?  Had he seen Kilgharrah?  His head felt muddled, his senses were going haywire.  He tried to pull away, Arthur would hate him now, but the prince didn’t let go.  “Uh.  My head.  Not Arthur.”  He tugged harder, his thoughts jumbled, fighting an increasing sense of dread.  His voice grew louder, “Lemme go.  Lancelot, where are you?”

Lancelot spoke soothingly, “What is it, Merlin?”

“I don’t ... what?”  He stopped, dazed, then began struggling again, twisting and pushing against the prince.  “Arthur.  He knows.  Get me away from him, I’m going to be sick.”

Uncertain, Arthur released his hold on Merlin, letting Lancelot take him.  He watched as they stumbled over to the side of the clearing near the trees, Merlin sank down on the ground and began retching.  Arthur turned back to the dragon, his unease growing.  “Look at him!  Are you sure he’ll be alright?  He’s ill, can’t you do something?”

“Young Prince, I appreciate your concern for your friend.  He may too, though I doubt he will remember any of this later.  I repeat, he’ll sleep this off and he will recover completely.”

Arthur didn’t look convinced, and Kilgharrah spoke his name deliberately.  “Arthur.  You must listen.  I will give you some words of caution, and you must pay them heed.  You should be aware of a side-effect when too much magic is expelled unexpectedly, as has just happened.  Merlin’s magic is still strong compared to others with magical abilities, but he has been weakened by the effort.  Should this occur in a battle he will be vulnerable to threat.  You must remember that, and take precautions to guard against it.”

Arthur nodded, looking back at Merlin and said quietly, “Yes, I will.”

“You are beginning to discover another effect.  At present, his magic is not fully under his command.  He will appear as if he were intoxicated, with the usual loss of inhibitions that come with such a state.  He may say and do things he does not mean.  It may be dangerous for him, and others around him, if he performs magic when he is in this condition.  You must keep him very calm, and safe.”

Gwaine had perked up, “Intoxicated?  We might have a bit of fun, then?”

The dragon frowned and Gwaine took an involuntary step backwards.  “Heed my warning, Knight of Camelot.  I am not to be taken lightly.”  Gwaine swallowed and nodded, rendered temporarily mute.

An odd sound, a splash of water.  Arthur spun around, and the dragon exhaled noisily in exasperation, sending a puff of warm, smoky air across the back of Arthur’s neck.

Lancelot was gaping open-mouthed at Merlin, who was sitting on the ground holding a large silver goblet.  Merlin’s head was completely soaked, it looked like he’d had a bucket of water thrown over him.  Arthur was beside him in an instant.  “Merlin, what did you do?”

Merlin turned from Lancelot to Arthur, panic written all over his face.  “Nothing!  Not magic!  I don’t ... nothing!”

“Hush, Merlin.”  Lancelot moved between Merlin’s field of vision and Arthur.  “You said you wanted to rinse your mouth out, so drink the water, then we can get you back to Camelot.”

Merlin stared uncomprehendingly at the goblet as if he wasn’t sure where it had come from, then took an obedient sip.

Ignoring Lancelot’s glare to go away, Arthur crouched down beside Merlin and put a hand on his shoulder.  “That better?”

Merlin gazed at him helplessly, water trickling down his forehead and into his eyes.  He dropped the goblet, it vanished.  He stared blankly at the spot where it had been for a moment, then looked back up at Arthur, and there was desperation and grief in his face.  “Uh ...”

“Look.  Come here.”  Arthur reached around and untied his neckerchief, which remarkably, considering the state of Merlin’s head, was still fairly dry.  “Lancelot, help me.”  He tugged Merlin to his feet, dragging him away from the water and the vomit, then when it was apparent Merlin wasn’t able to walk under his own steam, Arthur sank back down on the grass with him.  Merlin didn’t fight him this time.  Arthur propped him up so he was leaning against him, with Arthur’s arm around one shoulder, and held the side of Merlin’s damp head tight against his chest.

Merlin’s eyes were unfocused.  His face was pale under the grey moonlight, his body limp with fatigue.  Arthur took the neckerchief and carefully wiped away the trails of water, smoothing the cloth over his face.  Arthur ignored Lancelot and Gwaine; he wished they’d disappear.  Arthur’s eyes were stinging, he didn’t know why, he blinked to clear them.  Merlin was trembling, or he was, or perhaps they both were.  Arthur held on to him.

“I’m sorry.”  Merlin’s voice was weak.  He was breathing very slowly now and watching Arthur as he dried his face.  Merlin’s eyes were flickering constantly from gold to deep blue and back again, as he struggled with his magic and his efforts to remain conscious.  Arthur found the play of colour strangely mesmerising, he couldn’t look away.

Arthur’s throat was tight, there was an odd feeling in his chest, he swallowed.  “No.  It doesn’t matter.”  The neckerchief was soaked, he stared at it blindly for a moment then shoved it in his jacket pocket.

A croak of sound.  “You’re upset.”

Arthur pressed the palm of his hand against his eyes, the hand that wasn’t holding on to Merlin.  His eyes were wet.  “It’s not what you think.  And you’re a mess.”  He realised it wasn’t Merlin who was trembling.

“No.  Yes.”

Arthur tried a smile, but it came out as a grimace.  He said quietly, “I’m the one who should be sorry, and I am, you were right, I’ve been such a prat.”

“Huh?”  Merlin didn’t understand, the gold intensified, his eyes flickered shut and open, and he struggled to sit up.  One of his hands, the one that wasn’t jammed up against Arthur’s chest, grabbed at the prince’s shoulders in an attempt to get some leverage.

Arthur swatted the hand away, but he wasn’t rough, grasping Merlin’s wrist and pushing him back down.  “We’ll talk later.  Just go to sleep, huh?  You need to.”  He smoothed Merlin’s hair, and said in a low voice that wasn’t quite steady, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

A bare thread of sound.  “Not tired.”

At Merlin’s attempt to have the last word, Arthur managed the shadows of a smile.  But Merlin was losing his battle, his eyes were fluttering, the gold in them disappeared and finally he succumbed to the lure of oblivion.  Arthur hunched over and drew him closer, and Lancelot, Gwaine and the dragon were forgotten.  He tried to be quiet, he tried not to shake.  Merlin’s head was wet, and Arthur held on tight.

**************************************

The first rays of the new dawn were creeping over the horizon as they neared the edge of the forest not far from Camelot.  Arthur had sat on the damp grass for an hour holding onto the unconscious Merlin, carefully ignoring his audience, then Kilgharrah had judged Merlin fit to be woken for the short trip back to Camelot, with the proviso of ensuring he was made to sleep again as soon as they arrived. 

It had taken some time to wake him up, and although he was awake, Merlin was not quite lucid, and barely able to walk, kept upright only by the grip Arthur and Lancelot had on him, one of his arms around each of their shoulders supporting him.  Merlin felt sleepy, yet rather good, not a care in the world, somehow all light and ... floaty.  Yes, floaty ... he decided he liked that word.  Were his feet touching the ground?  Probably not, he couldn’t feel them, but ... it didn’t seem to matter.  This floating business was just fine.

Vaguely, Merlin wondered if he could float any higher.  His head lolled back, he screwed up his eyes against the glare of the rising sun, and thought further.  Hold on, was that speck high up above the treetops a bird?  It was difficult to tell while he was beneath the canopy, but he could probably go up that far, why not have a quick look?  He could try a floating enchantment, or was it a levitation spell?  Levitation, big word ... maybe too big right now.  But whatever it was, it was just what he should do, why hadn’t he thought to try it on himself before?

After all, it couldn’t be that difficult to get back down safely again, he’d think of a spell for that when he had to.  He was brilliant!

He whispered fuzzily, “ _Fleótan úpgang!_ ” and was rather astonished when he felt a sharp tug on both arms.  The magic mustn’t have been very strong. But then Arthur’s voice hissed, “Merlin, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Arthur?”  He stared down at the prince, confused.  The spell disappeared and he slumped back between two sets of shoulders.  “Whatcha doing here?”

“Merlin, mate.”  Another voice, another face.  Gradually it came into focus.  No, two faces, one Gwaine, the other Lancelot, but it was Gwaine’s voice.  “You can’t do any magic, remember, not near Camelot.  You might be seen.” 

He said stupidly, “Up.  See bird.”  He waved an arm in the general direction, banging someone’s head, and tried to explain further.  “Float.”

“You idiot, you could have thought of that when we first started to cart you back, you’re bloody heavier than you look!”  Why was he resting his head on Arthur’s shoulder?  That was Arthur’s voice, near his ear again.

Merlin frowned, but of course, Arthur was right!  Arthur was always right!  Arthur said he was heavy, he should float up again, right now!  But the word to use wasn’t float.  Arthur’d want to know the right word.  Merlin concentrated.  “Not float, lev...itate?”  He couldn’t get anything else out, but he hoped it would be enough, and it was, Arthur was grinning now, he approved of the idea!  Merlin beamed back, pleased.

“ _Fleótan úpgang!_ ”

He tried the spell again, a bit surprised by the sniggers around him.  Wasn’t it working?  It was, but why were they pulling him down again?  Puzzled, he managed a single word, “R’thur?”

 _“Merlin!”_

Blinking, he tried to focus on Arthur’s face.  He couldn’t understand what Arthur was saying.  “Wha... huh?”

“Merlin!  No more magic.  That’s an order.  You are _not_ to attempt any more magic!”  That was Arthur’s cross voice!

Merlin’s face fell.  He glowered.  “Prat!”

More sniggers from somewhere.  “Merlin, mate, we are so going for a trip out in the woods one day and I am going to get you roaring drunk!”  That’s right, Gwaine was here too.

“I never gets drunk.  Can’t.  Mightn’t be able to control magic.”  He was proud of himself for managing such a long and informative speech.

A hand under his chin, turning his head around.  “Merlin.”  It was Arthur again but he didn’t have the cross voice now.  Good, lucky for him.  “You must listen.  _It’s very important_.  You can’t do any more magic now, right?  No more gold eyes.  We are about to go into Camelot.  Promise me, you won’t do any more magic, _please_?”

Well ... why not if the prat was being nice?  “Alright.”

“And it would be a good idea if you didn’t talk, either, alright?  So no magic, and no prattle, not a sound out of you, please?”

Merlin considered it grudgingly.  Arthur was the prince, he should really do what Arthur said at least _some_ of the time.  And he’d said _please_.  Please was nice.  Merlin pouted.  “Alright.”

He shut his eyes and allowed himself to be dragged along, his thoughts drifting aimlessly, not noticing when they moved out of the undergrowth and onto the road.  It was just too difficult to concentrate on anything.  Not long after that, Leon met them just outside the south gates.

“Where were you?  I’ve been looking for the four of you for almost an hour.”

Arthur and Gwaine exchanged glances.  Then Lancelot volunteered, “We were ... on a hunting trip?”

Leon said slowly, “At night?” and Lancelot nodded.  “But ... you have no weapons, no kill?”

Gwaine stepped in to fill the silence.  “Uh, I didn’t want to say, we weren’t actually hunting, more that Arthur here wanted to observe ... badgers in their natural habitat.”

Arthur shot Gwaine a disgusted look which Leon did not see.

“Badgers?”

“Well, they are nocturnal, which is a word meaning active at night, so ....”  Gwaine shrugged as if the whims of royalty were a mystery to him and whispered confidentially, “He took us along for protection.  You know, in case they ... attacked, which they can if ... if they’re enchanted!”

Leon blinked, not looking like he was fully appreciating the magic-zoology lesson.  His gaze zoomed in on Merlin, who was swaying, eyes shut, face pale and bloodless, still supported by Arthur and Lancelot.

“So what’s wrong with Merlin.  Did he ...?”

Gwaine realised he may not have thought the story through properly, but Lancelot came to the rescue.  “Concussion.  Falling tree branch.  We’re taking him up to see Gaius now.”

“Very well.”  Leon turned back to Arthur.  “Shall I assist you, sire?”

“No, no, leave him with us.  You go back to your duties.  I’ll need a rest and change of clothes and I’ll be along in a few hours.”

As Leon moved away, Arthur hissed in an undertone, “That was pathetic.  You both,” he emphasised the words with a finger pointed at Gwaine and Lancelot, “need to find some better excuses than that.”

“Like Merlin’s?” Gwaine suggested lightly, and Merlin shifted uncomfortably as Gwaine clapped him on the back.

After an awkward climb that involved a bang to the head, some pushing and shoving and almost dropping Merlin back down several flights of stairs, they reached Gaius’s chambers.  At the sight of Merlin being half-carried the physician stood up from the breakfast table, alarmed.

“Merlin, what happened?” Gaius exclaimed.

“Uh ....”  Merlin forced his eyes open and met Arthur’s gaze uneasily.  Arthur rolled his eyes and helped him up the stairs to his room, placing him with care on the bed so he didn’t knock his head again.

“Magic, Gaius,” Gwaine said, following Lancelot into the main room and closing the door.

“He was hit by a magical enchantment?”

Arthur shook his head.  “No.  He used too much magic when he threw the great dragon across a field, it seems that was the magical equivalent to demolishing half of Camelot.  That’s what the dragon said anyway.”

Gaius froze, and eyes flicked from Merlin to Arthur and back again.  “I’m not sure I’m following this conversation,” he said carefully.  “Merlin?”

Merlin opened one eye and regarded Gaius blearily.  “What’e said.”  And then he promptly passed out.

********************

 _Translations:_

 _“Kilgharrah, edníwe_ _sé græd?”_ _KILGHARRAH, RESTORE THE GRASS?_

“ _Fleótan úpgang”_   FLOAT UP!

 


	6. Chapter 6

Several hours later, Gaius was watching Merlin inhale a very late breakfast.  Merlin was feeling fairly normal again, although he had a nagging sense of unease about some yawning gaps in his memory.  He remembered being vaguely aware of sending Kilgharrah flying across the field, then some sort of conversation with Arthur, Lancelot and Gwaine, but then .... a blank.  And he couldn’t actually remember the finer details – any details to be truthful - of how he’d returned to Camelot.

It was a little troubling.

Gaius wanted answers.  “You had a fight with the dragon?  And Arthur knows of your magic?  What on earth possessed you?”

Merlin came out of his trance.  “We weren’t fighting, Gaius.  Kilgharrah was letting me practice my defensive magic on him.”  He cut a slice of cheese and popped it into his mouth.

“You practised defensive magic with the dragon?  It’s fortunate he didn’t hurt you!”

“He wouldn’t harm me, Gaius, not seriously.”

Gaius asked gravely, “And what of Arthur, Gwaine and Lancelot?  They all know of your magic now?”

Merlin nodded, looking down at his plate.

“Any others?”

“No.  But Lancelot has known for a year or two.  Gwaine ... I think he said he discovered it the day we met, and Arthur, um, Arthur just found out.”

“But Merlin, I thought you were never to tell him!  Magic is outlawed in this kingdom, and he is the prince and Regent.  Uther is still King even if he is not ruling at present.  You know what that means!”

At this reminder, Merlin’s unease about those blanks deepened.  Arthur was not going to be happy with him.  He could be planning his banishment, or worse, right now.  “I know, Gaius.  But I didn’t have a choice.  I met Kilgharrah in the clearing south of Camelot.  He knew the three of them were watching us from the trees but he didn’t tell me.  He said it was foretold they’d all find out now.  Gwaine will be fine with it, probably a little _too_ fine with it, he said he knew anyway.  Arthur  .... I don’t know.”

A shadow crossed his face.  “I cannot remember what happened, once I knew they were there.  It’s a bit hazy.  Arthur ... I do not know what he thinks.  But it won’t be good.”

He didn’t say so, but he was sure it was the worst time possible for Arthur to discover this secret, given that it came so soon after he’d found out about Morgana’s betrayal and her magic.  Merlin’s betrayal, for that was what it was, would not be any easier for Arthur to deal with.  Dislike and anger were about the best emotions he could hope for from Arthur now.  Merlin’s stomach churned, his appetite vanished.  He put down the knife very carefully before Gaius noticed his hands were trembling.

Gaius poured them both a cup of water.  “Arthur didn’t say much earlier, he was very subdued, which is not like him at all.  He may not be sure of his own opinion about it yet.  You must be careful.”

Merlin looked away but was saved from any further discussion by a knock on the door.  Lancelot stuck his head in the room.  A nod to Gaius.  “Good, you’re awake Merlin.  Arthur wants to see you as soon as you’re ready.”

**************************************

Lancelot was waiting for him, leaning against the wall outside Arthur’s chambers.  He gave Merlin a sympathetic look but didn’t speak.  Merlin took a deep breath at the door, then barged in without knocking.  He hoped he didn’t look as nervous as he felt, but there was a sick feeling in his gut and his palms were sweaty.  This was it, his moment of truth, when destiny and reality would collide.  The outcome, he feared, would not be to his liking.

Arthur rose from behind his desk, pushing back his chair and dropping the parchment he’d been holding.  “Gwaine, leave us now.  I’ll send someone to find you later.”

Gwaine was reluctant to go.  “I’ll make this clear, princess.  I’ll be seeing Merlin later, and if he’s not happy, then I’m not happy.  And if I’m not happy, the only thing that will make me a _little_ happier again is to beat you to a pulp several times over.  Lancelot might be feeling a bit sorry for himself after last night, but he’ll still side with me on this one.”

Arthur just gave him a speaking glance.  “Gwaine, _please_.” 

A dark stare at Arthur.  “I’ll be waiting outside with Lancelot if you need us, Merlin.”

“Uh, thanks.”  Merlin made a show of watching Gwaine leave, but once the door had closed, he risked a quick look Arthur’s way. 

Inscrutable, Arthur gestured at the chairs near the fireplace.  “Sit down, Merlin, please.”

Merlin found he couldn’t co-operate with his own downfall.  “I’d rather stand.”  Realising he was still hovering near the doorway, he made his way awkwardly to the window, staring out and seeing nothing, waiting for the axe to fall.  Arthur leaned back against the edge of his desk, watching.

Arthur’s voice was quiet, concerned.  “Merlin, are you alright?”

Merlin was startled, he turned around.  Shrugging, he said, “Yes.  Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The uh, magical effort earlier.  After it you were pretty dazed.  No side-effects?”

Merlin crossed his arms, his back against the window ledge, examining the tips of his boots like he’d never seen them before.  “No Arthur, I’m fine.”  An edge crept into his voice.  “Completely recovered.  Magical abilities back to normal again.”

Arthur nodded, and walked over to where Merlin stood.  Merlin tried not to flinch.

“Merlin ...”

Trying to suppress an inexplicable surge of hostility, Merlin interrupted curtly, “What is it you want to know?  What am I meant to say?  I can’t help what I am, and I’m not going to apologise for it.”  He wanted Arthur’s fury, he deserved the prince’s wrath, he needed Arthur to get the yelling and the accusations over and done with, so he’d be able to scurry off and nurse his wounds in private.

Arthur tried again.  “Merlin, please.”  He took a step closer.  “It’s going to be alright.  We’ll work this out together.”

Anger and some other undefinable emotion always so close to the surface lately, flared.  “There’s nothing to work out!  I have magic, there’s nothing you can do about it, I can’t just switch it off and not use it, magic is what I am!  And you ... you don’t approve of my magic, of me, I’m sure you’re –“ he threw his hands in the air “- angry because I didn’t tell you, I bet you think I’m a monster, and maybe that’s what I am!”

He glowered into Arthur’s unwavering gaze.  “I am a monster, you know why Arthur?  To save Camelot, and you, I’m going to have to get rid of Morgana.  I almost killed her once, no, twice actually, and I’m going to have to really do it this time.  And I will do it, I will, what other option do I have?  I _am_ a monster!  You should fear me!”

“Merlin.”  Arthur took another step, and gripped his shoulder.  Merlin recoiled at the touch, his back pressed up against the wall.  “You’re not a monster.  I’m not afraid of you.  I know you.”

“How can you say you know me, when you didn’t know I had magic?  How can you?  Why are you so calm about this?  Don’t tell me you’re not shocked, I know you had no idea!”

Arthur didn’t flinch, didn’t move his hand away.  “Your magic was a shock.  And I can’t promise you I’m not a little angry because you didn’t tell me.  And I’m ... hurt, that you did not want to tell me of your own accord.  Why is it that you trust Lancelot and Gwaine, but not me?  What do you think I’m going to do with this knowledge, Merlin?”

“I’m not giving you guidelines, Arthur!  There’s no book for this.  You followed me.  You deal with it.  I didn’t want you to know.”  Part of Merlin was perfectly aware that attack was not always the best form of defence, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

Arthur’s mouth compressed.  “Why?  Why didn’t you want me to know?”

“Because you’ll treat me differently.  You already are.  You look at me now, you wonder what I am capable of.  Who I will harm.  What power I will take for my own.  You look at me and see Morgana, Morgause, Nimueh – oh, I killed her, by the way!  You see every embodiment of evil.  You don’t see me, any more.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth!”  Arthur’s voice rose and he took a step closer, he had two hands on Merlin’s shoulders now.  He was too close.  “Before you entered this room you’d already given up on me!  You decided for yourself how I’d react, what I’d do!  You’re running scared, but you have more courage than that!”

Merlin glared at him for a moment, then turned his head away.  “Why are you behaving like _I’m_ the one in shock?  Was this not a big surprise for _you_?”  He need Arthur’s anger, he could deal with that.  He didn’t want his disappointment and hurt at Merlin’s betrayal, he had no defence for it and was horribly afraid he’d break down.

Arthur said, as if he was trying to calm a skittish horse, “Yes.  It was.  Now look at me, look at me, Merlin.”  He waited until Merlin unwillingly met his gaze.  “But this is a bigger shock for _you_.  I’ll bet you’ve worried over my reaction to your magic for God knows how long.”

And every scenario he played through his mind always ended the same:  badly.  Merlin ran a hand through his hair and tried to escape Arthur’s grip, but Arthur wouldn’t let him.

“I may have been blind to your magic, yet part of it makes perfect sense.  There was always something about you ....  Why couldn’t you trust me with the truth, Merlin?”

A snort.  “It takes two to recognise truth, one to speak and the other to hear.  There was never a time that you wanted to hear.”

“That’s hardly fair.”

“Is it?  When have you ever given any indication that you could be receptive to the use of magic?  Only a few months ago you were going to have that old sorcerer executed because you caught him placing a poultice under your pillow!  What harm had been done by that?  What evil had been committed?  None!  You knew what your feelings for Gwen were, you knew you weren’t enchanted, you knew he’d done nothing, but you were prepared to sacrifice an innocent life!”

“What?  I’m not following you.  Merlin, you knew this sorcerer?”

“It was me, Arthur, me!”

Arthur was shocked.  “But ...?”

“I took an aging potion.  I’d been watching Morgana for months by then, and when I visited Gwen in the dungeons she told me Morgana was pleased when she was dragged away when Uther sentenced her to death.  Gwen was already suspicious of her; she’d seen Morgana using magic.  So I guessed Morgana planted the first poultice with the intention of making Uther think Gwen was a sorcerer who’d enchanted you.”

Arthur frowned.  “But if you’re saying Morgana planted the poultice ...?”

Merlin continued in a quieter tone.  “She planted the first one.  I thought that if I gave Uther a sorcerer, then Gwen would be freed, so I let you see me planting the second poultice.  I hadn’t planned on letting you capture me, but the enchantment was too strong and I couldn’t shake it, I hadn’t made one before.  I couldn’t control my magic properly in that form, the longer I stayed in it the more difficult it was, it felt strange, I couldn’t escape, not without the risk that I’d blow up the entire dungeons and kill the guards when all I’d meant to do was to unlock the cell.”  Merlin looked away.  “It took Gaius all night to make an antidote and he got it to me just in time.”

“I’m sorry.  I am.  I didn’t know it was you.”

“It doesn’t matter that it was me, Arthur, don’t you see?  It was you hating magic!”

“No, that’s not true!  It wasn’t about magic for me, it was only about Gwen.  I couldn’t bear it, if I lost her, Merlin.  You know how I feel about her.  When the sorcerer confessed, I jumped at the chance to save her, my only chance.  I wanted to talk to you but I couldn’t work out why you’d disappeared when we needed you.  I was ... afraid, I didn’t know what to do.”

Merlin broke out of Arthur’s grip and slid down against the wall, sitting on the ground, knees against his chest, head in his hands, turning away from Arthur.  “Please.  Just let me do what has to be done but leave me alone.  I won’t leave Camelot because you are totally defenceless against magical threats without me – you have no idea how many times I’ve saved you – but just leave me alone and let me get on with it by myself.”

Arthur sat down beside him.  “I can’t do that, Merlin.”

“Because you don’t trust me?”

“No, it’s because I _do_ trust you.  I trust you to do the best for Camelot and I trust you with my life.  I have for a long time and that hasn’t changed.  You earned my trust long ago.  Now I need to earn yours.”

Merlin was silent.  Slightly self-consciously, Arthur draped an arm around Merlin’s shoulders in an awkward hug.  Arthur had not grown up in a family that showed affection and he wasn’t entirely easy with the gesture, but he knew Merlin needed to understand that despite his fears, there was always going to be this bond between the two of them, and maybe Arthur needed to feel it too.

He said to Merlin, “What I was trying to say, a while ago, and not all that well, is that I know you in essentials.  I didn’t know about your magic, it changes everything and nothing.  Everything because you’re a bloody sorcerer and you have abilities I cannot guess at, and yet it changes nothing at all because I know you, I know your compassion and empathy for others, your loyalty, your integrity, your kindness.  I’m not letting you back away from me, Merlin.”

Arthur felt a tremor run through Merlin’s shoulders.  He held on, tight.  “I ... uh, may not have mentioned this before, but I consider you to be my best friend.  And I hope you can ... uh, forgive me, for not being the sort of friend you thought you could trust with the truth of your magic.  I was a prat, you’ve told me often enough.  I’m sorry you had to do so much of this alone, more sorry than you can know.  Stay with me on this, huh?”

Merlin looked over and finally met his gaze.  His eyes were suspiciously bright.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.  I can’t keep it together, I’m all over the place.”

“Then listen to what your dragon said.  He said your burdens are to share, and my strength is yours.  Your truth is not your downfall, it will be what saves us all.”

An attempt at a smile.  “I never thought I’d hear the day when you were quoting those words back to me, Arthur.”

“You have given me a lot to think about.  And I will ask something of you, too.”

Merlin couldn’t help but feel apprehensive.  “Uh, what?”

“You must tell me when you’re threatened, when there’s a magical puzzle to be worked out, when you need my help.  You must come to me if you are suspicious of someone’s actions, don’t assume I won’t believe you.  I’ve learnt my lesson, no thanks to Morgana.  Stop keeping things to yourself.  I can’t promise I’ll always agree with you, we’ll argue a lot, sometimes I’ll over-rule you, then you’ll ignore me, nothing new there.  We’ll fight, it’ll happen, but it doesn’t change anything.  Try and trust me, please, just give me this chance.”

Merlin finally nodded.  “Yes.”  He swallowed and cleared his throat.  “I do trust you, Arthur.  I suppose I was a little afraid that you’d ... uh, hate me, because of the magic, and because I’d kept it from you.  But I couldn’t tell you, at first, and the secret got bigger and I just didn’t know how I ever could.  And I didn’t think you’d be so ... uh, receptive.”

Arthur said dryly, “Only a _little_ afraid, Merlin?”

“Well ...”  Merlin squirmed uncomfortably.

“You idiot.”  Arthur dropped his arm away and leaned up against the wall beside him. “I could not have predicted my own behaviour.  But there’s something about it all that seems right.  It’s like a puzzle piece has finally slotted into place.  Your magic feels so obvious, like I’ve always known.”

“You should have, the bridge keeper had to have told you magic was on its way on the quest I _didn’t_ come on, not to mention all the other times you should have been suspicious.  I was beginning to wonder if you were a bit thick!”

“Hey!”  Arthur dug him in the side with an elbow.

Merlin subsided.  “I suppose I should have listened to Kilgharrah.  He’s been telling me for ages that destiny will manage things, I didn’t believe him though.”

“Mmm.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, then Arthur said, “I liked Gwaine’s idea.”

Merlin didn’t have to look at him to know he was smiling.  “What idea?”

“Taking you away from habitation and getting you drunk.”  The smile cranked up a notch.  “Your dragon told us your overuse of magic last night would make you behave like you were intoxicated, so we now have a bit of an idea what a drunk warlock is like.”  Arthur looked across at him.  “You were _fascinating_ , last night, Merlin.”

“Err ... what?  I was?”

“You don’t remember, the daffodils, trying to float up into the air, and prattling on about birds?”

“Um ... no?”

“What about humming?”

“What’s wrong with humming?”  Merlin was a little indignant.

“Nothing, except you were doing it in a chorus, using several different voices at the same time.”  Arthur paused for maximum effect.  “Including a very _girlish_ soprano.”

Merlin groaned.  “I didn’t.  I wouldn’t!”

Arthur nodded decidedly.  “Yes, you would.  You did.”

Merlin winced and covered his face.  “No.  No!”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while longer, then Arthur smiled to himself and poked Merlin in the ribs again.  “I think we should tell the others about you.”

“Um ...”  Merlin sighed, he’d expected this eventually but hoped it wouldn’t be quite so soon.  “Who, exactly?”

“Gwen.  Those we trust – Elyan, Percival, Leon.”

“Yes to Gwen.  But not the others, not yet.”

“Why not?”

Merlin pushed himself off the wall, twisting around so he could face Arthur.  “No, it’s just ....  Look, I’ve had to keep my magic secret for as long as I can remember.  Don’t expect that I can suddenly be so open about something that I’ve had to keep hidden all my life.”  Distracted, he ran a hand through his hair.  “Gwen, yes, I’ve wanted to tell Gwen for a long time, I’ve always thought if anyone could accept me for who I am, it would be her.  So yes, tell Gwen.”

Arthur tried not to look hurt by his omission of unquestioning acceptance, but Merlin saw and shrugged.

“I’m being honest with you Arthur, and I won’t apologise for that.  Gwen cares about others, her heart is pure.  She’ll stand up for what is right, and she is kind.  I never thought she’d hate me for my magic, fear me possibly at first, fear _for_ me too, but I always thought in the end, she would still be my friend.”

“In a way she’s a lot like you.”

“She is?”  Merlin considered it.  “As long as you’re not calling me a girl – then thanks.  I don’t mind if she knows, because she’s my friend, but also because I don’t want the secret of my magic to ever come between the two of you.  It’s too big a thing for you to hide from her, if you love her then you need to be able to be honest with each other, always.  She needs to know.”

Arthur looked at him curiously.  “Words of wisdom?”

Merlin shrugged.  “If you want to take them that way.”

“So you’ll tell her?”

“No, not me.  You, please.  But keep it simple, don’t mention Kilgharrah, just the magic.”

“Why not tell her about the dragon?”

“Arthur, please!” Merlin groaned.  He stood up and Arthur followed suit.  “Don’t make it bigger than it has to be, _please_ just leave the whole dragonlord thing out of it for now!  You have to let me get used to the idea of _you_ knowing about all this before we bring others into it!  Lancelot has known for ages, but he wasn’t at Camelot until now, either was Gwaine!  It will be different, seeing them every day.  It creates expectation, you’ll be the same!  What are you going to do, next time we’re out in the forest and we get attacked?  Are you going to fight back, or leave it to me?”

“I hadn’t thought about it!”

“Well I have!  You have no idea how simple that would be for me, I could disarm fifty bandits in the blink of an eye before you could swing your sword, it’s just too easy!  But I can be caught off guard as easily as anyone else, I can’t concentrate and watch everywhere _all_ the time, I’ll make mistakes.  I want you all to behave normally around me, and if everyone knows about the magic you won’t!”

“Sometimes Merlin, you think too much.”

“Well someone has to!  And Gwaine knowing, he’s a great friend, but he’s going to be forever asking me to do stupid tricks with the magic, and I can’t!  Don’t you see, my risk of discovery increases with the more who know about me!  Uther can never know about me, never!  You really don’t know about this destiny we share, not yet.  And you don’t know much about my magic and what I can and cannot do.  I don’t even really know what I’m capable of, I don’t get many chances to experiment.  There’s a lot I must do, and I am not powerful enough yet, I’m still learning!  I cannot risk coming to the notice of those who are evil with great power if I don’t need to, to risk unnecessary injury or death would be foolish!  Arthur, my magic has always been private, and I’m not ready for it to be out in the open.  It’s not meant to be like that yet.  And I do _not_ want you to tell anyone about Kilgharrah, I’m begging you Arthur, please _don’t_.”

“Very well, I’m listening!  Don’t get yourself too worked up!”  He looked at Merlin.  “Will you tell me about this destiny that we’re meant to share?  You mentioned it again then, and I heard you talking about it with the dragon too.”

Merlin hesitated.  “Not yet.  I’m not ready to talk about it, and you’re not ready to hear it.”

Arthur frowned but Merlin said, “No, I don’t mean it that way, you know I don’t.  I just ... just one thing at a time, huh?  Just not yet.  I need to discuss ... stuff ... with Kilgharrah first.  Don’t rush me on this.”

“Alright.  But I’d like to rush you on Gwen.  Can I call her, now?”

“Yes, I’ll see you later then.”

“No!  You should be here.”

“Don’t you want some time together ... alone ... first?”

 _“Merlin!”_

 _“Arthur!”_ Merlin mimicked his tone and Arthur frowned but without real intent. __

“I’m sure Lancelot and Gwaine are still outside the door waiting to see if I’ve killed you.  I’ll send one of them to find her.”

Merlin shrugged.  “If you’re sure I need to be here ....?”

“Are you afraid of her reaction?”

“No!  Well, maybe, just a little.”

Arthur opened the door and stuck his head out, almost head butting Gwaine.  Gwaine glared.  “Well?”

“He’s fine.  We’re fine.  Go find Gwen, would you?”  Arthur shut the door in his face and leaned back against it, allowing himself a small smile.

Merlin saw.  “Tell me, did you do that on purpose, or does it just come naturally?”

“I’m sure you can answer that yourself, Merlin.”

“He’ll beat you up!”

“As if!”

Merlin smiled to himself and wondered what Arthur would say if he told him he could beat them both without even raising a hand.  But he didn’t say anything, it was too soon to push those sorts of boundaries, too soon for both of them.

Gwen arrived fairly quickly.  “Merlin!”  He was standing near Arthur, she shut the door behind her and gave him a pat on the arm.  “Are you alright?”

Merlin was puzzled.  “Uh ... yes?  Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well,” Gwen and Arthur exchanged glances.  “You haven’t exactly been your usual self since the battle.  We were wondering if there was something wrong?”

“Oh.”  Merlin was a bit sheepish.  “Yes.  That.” He looked to Arthur for assistance, but when Arthur just looked back neutrally and rather _unhelpfully_ , he said pointedly, “Arthur wants to talk with you.”

Gwen smiled at him and turned to Arthur, who gave her a quick kiss.  Merlin was getting used to that sort of behaviour from the two of them, he hardly noticed it anymore.

“What is it, Arthur?”

Merlin wandered across the room.  Arthur looked over at him and Gwen followed his gaze.  Merlin smiled nervously and crossed his arms. 

Arthur took pity on him.  Glancing across at Merlin, he took both of Gwen’s hands in his.  “Gwen, I’m going to say this straight.”  He took a deep breath, and looked into her eyes.  “Merlin has magic.”

Silence.  Gwen looked from one to the other, Merlin could tell she wasn’t sure if they were serious, or whether there was a punch line coming.

Merlin turned back.  He knew what he was going to do.  Unsmilingly, he walked towards them.  “Gwen?”  He stopped in front of her, and held out his hand, palm up, and whispered a single word.  His eyes glowed and Merlin heard Gwen give a soft gasp of surprise, but he didn’t look at her, concentrating on the image building on his palm.  Thousands of tiny specks of gold, the same colour as his eyes, were swirling on his palm in a crazy dance, as they all watched a form slowly took shape; it was a single gold rose.  Merlin whispered another word, the stem deepened to green, the bud slowly unfurled into a rich, pure, yellow, the colour of the sun.  Another word and the subtle scent of the flower’s perfume floated through the air. 

Merlin’s eyes faded back to blue, he offered the rose to her.  “Gwen?”

Slowly, wordlessly, she took it from him, fingering the stem of the rose absently.  He looked at her hesitantly, not sure how she was taking it. “Uh, Gwen?”

She flung herself at him, her arms going around his neck.  “Oh Merlin!”  He patted her on the back, relieved, and glanced across to Arthur who didn’t seem to mind that he was holding Gwen in his arms. 

“So you don’t mind, then, about the magic?”

“Of course not, Merlin, you’re my friend.  I’m glad Arthur knows, though.”  She smiled at him and released her hold, taking a step back so she could see his face. “Besides, when we first met you told me you were in disguise and now I know why.”

Merlin smiled a little foolishly.  “It doesn’t scare you?  You don’t think I’m evil, because of it?”

Arthur gave a snort of exasperation and clapped him on the back even as Gwen shook her head.  Merlin looked at him, suddenly overwhelmed by a huge wave of relief and happiness.  They knew about his magic, and they still liked him, they weren’t scared or repelled, they were still his friends.  Never in his wildest dreams had he thought acceptance would be so easy.  His eyes stung, he was beyond grateful, his breathing quickened, the feeling choked him.  Arthur was watching his face carefully, he understood. 

Quietly, to both of them, Merlin stuttered out a simple, “Thanks.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

Darkness.

It had been three days since he’d discovered Arthur knew his secret, and three days since they’d told Gwen about his magical abilities.  Merlin was alone with his thoughts at the top of the battlements on the far side of the castle.  The night air was frigid and chill, and he was cold.  It was a place he’d go to when he wanted solitude.  It was the highest site in the castle, and less guarded than some of the other points due to the sheer drop below, making it impenetrable by attack from beneath.  There were enough darkened, secluded recesses around the stone pillars for Merlin to be able to curl up with his thoughts and easily escape the notice of any guards who may patrol past him, especially easy for someone with magical abilities.

He’d barely had time to himself during the past three days;  if it wasn’t Arthur insisting on his presence for something totally unnecessary, it was Gwaine wanting him to come to the tavern, or Lancelot begging for his assistance in sword practice (the stupidest excuse so far, Merlin thought).

Gwen and Gaius were in on it too, Gwen seemed to have an impulsive urge to spring-clean and re-arrange all heavy items of furniture in her house several times over (Merlin with his magical furniture-moving capabilities was the chosen assistant), and Gaius demanded his help making potions and treating patients (something he was usually reluctant to involve Merlin in).

Even Elyan, Leon and Percival seemed to want him around, but whether that was from genuine desire for his company or orders from Arthur, Merlin didn’t know. 

He stared out at the stars and sat with his back against the castle wall, legs bent.  The flagstones on the ground were icy.  He shivered, wishing he’d bought a jacket with him, but he hadn’t thought of that when he’d slipped away.  He hadn’t thought of much at all, only that he was relieved to finally steal some time alone.  Merlin was weary, from lack of sleep and everything else.  But he’d had enough time to think, and he knew what he had to do.

It came as no surprise when, after less than an hour of peace and quiet at the top of the battlements, he saw Arthur’s silhouette near the corner of the castle followed by two other figures.  Merlin sighed, stretching his legs out in front of him, and waited for them to find him.

Arthur said rather unnecessarily, “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Merlin glanced behind him at Lancelot and Percival, and said mildly, “I’m off duty Arthur, can I not have some time to myself?”

“Merlin,” Arthur hesitated, he seemed worried.  He said carefully, “Why don’t you come back with us?”

Merlin looked up at him.  It would have to be now, he couldn’t put it of any longer.  Arthur wouldn’t like what he was going to hear, but he’d hear it anyway.  If Arthur wanted trust and openness between them he should tell him what he was going to do, he owed Arthur that much at least.

Merlin stood up, stretching the crick out of his back.  “Lancelot, Percival, would you mind?  I’d like to talk with Arthur, alone.”

Lancelot hesitated and shot a glance at Arthur, but the prince said sharply, instantly suspicious, “No.”

Merlin regarded Arthur warily.  It was hard to read his expression in the shadows of the night but he looked strained.  Why?  Was this concern for him?  No matter.  Did he really think having Percival here, as a witness, would change anything?  It made no difference, he knew what he had to do, his mind was made up, and if it left Percival with questions – Merlin wasn’t happy about it, but well, Arthur or Lancelot could deal with them when he’d gone.

He said quietly, to Arthur, “I know, what I must do.  You cannot stop me.”  There was no challenge to his voice, just a simple statement of fact.

“Merlin,” Arthur took a step closer and Merlin found himself backing up against the castle wall.

“I have to do this, Arthur.”  He wanted to explain, he owed Arthur that much.  “After the battle, I put wards around the castle so I’d know if they try to get back into Camelot.  But Morgana is a seer, Arthur.  She hasn’t yet been able to scry me, but that may change, she will see you, and she may learn what you know.  If she does, it will give her an advantage.  She’ll change her tactics because of it.  I cannot wait for her to come here.  The risk to you all is too great.  When she finds out about me, it will be on my own terms, not hers.”

“No!”  Arthur’s voice rose, and Merlin found himself pushed back against the wall, hard.  The jagged edge of a stone dug into his back, and Arthur’s hands gripped his arms, tight, fingers digging into his flesh.  “You cannot go after her, I forbid it!”

Merlin said tonelessly, “I won’t kill her, unless you want me to.  Do you?”  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the two knights moving closer, Merlin ignored them.

“Merlin, no!”  Arthur shook him, it hurt, his head banged against the wall.  “Forget Morgana!  You can’t go after her by yourself, it’s too dangerous!  I said no, you’re not going!”

“And I’ve told you, Arthur, that you can’t stop me, and you won’t.  If you didn’t know about my magic, I would have gone anyway.  The only difference is I’m telling you now before I go, and I’ll tell you what I found, when I get back.  I’m won’t keep my actions a secret from you.”

Arthur moved closer, his face only inches away from Merlin’s, shaking his head, desperate, he looked like he didn’t know what to do.  “No, no, no!  That’s an order, Merlin.  I refuse to let you do this!”

Merlin had no intention of obeying.  “I’m going Cenred’s kingdom, that’s the only place I’ll look for her right now, his castle would be a perfect hideout.  If she’s not there, then she may be off in the woods with the druids.  But if she’s not at the castle, I’ll come back here.  It might take me a week, Arthur, but it’s not dangerous, I’m going in my own time, you see.  My time, not yours, and not hers.  Kilgharrah cannot follow me into that, neither can she.”

He paused, sure the Prince understood what he meant, but Arthur still looked frantic, Merlin didn’t understand why, it was a perfectly rational thing for him to do.  “I promise you that I will watch them only, I will not act, I will just see what she’s up to, what she knows.  Then I’ll return here and discuss it with you.”

“Merlin, if you want me to beg, I’ll do it, I’m begging you, don’t do this!  You can’t go alone!”

Merlin knew the fist was coming, he’d half expected it, Arthur was a fighter after all, and the punch was intended to knock him out, which meant of course, he’d be going nowhere.  But Merlin was leaving, he was disappearing now.  His eyes flared, Arthur was frozen with a hand clenched in midair.  Lancelot and Percival were immobilised too, he wasn’t going to let them stop him either.  He pushed Arthur backwards gently, stilling his fist and lowering his arm, then wriggling out of his grasp with some difficulty, since Arthur’s hold on his arm was tight.

He adjusted the magic so they could see and hear him and said flatly, “You’re being unreasonable, Arthur.  Sometimes we’ll have to agree to disagree.  I didn’t have to tell you what I’m doing, but I have.  I’ll be back in your chambers in _your_ time, within the half hour.”  He smiled faintly.  “Unless of course you need more time than that to cool off?”

There was no response of course, because they couldn’t make one, and Merlin was perfectly aware of that.  “And don’t try and hit me again.  I don’t like it, it hurts.”

His eyes flared gold again, they moved, but time had passed, and Merlin was long gone.

**************************************

He left them, silent and invisible as a wraith, and made his preparations.  He returned to his room, and Gaius saw nothing and no one when he shrugged on his jacket and grabbed his travel bag.  He passed through the kitchens, no more substance than a ghost to the servants working there, and collected food and water for his journey.

He considered taking a horse to make the travel faster for him, but he thought he’d have enough trouble maintaining his time while he slept, as well as needing to remember to keep it constantly around an animal.  He wasn’t sure he could do both.  And the horse might be spooked by the experience;  sometimes when he sped through his own time quickly everything outside it was a disorientating blur of shapes, colours and sounds.

In Arthur’s time, it would have taken him over four days to reach Cenred’s castle.  It hadn’t been an easy journey, he was constantly cold, it rained, and his thoughts weighed heavily on him.  Being away from the time of the earth for too long also made him uneasy, there was something that always felt innately wrong when he stayed outside it for long periods, and he found it depressing, which made it difficult for him to concentrate on what he had to do.

So saying, the one good thing was that it was easier than he expected to keep to his own time, he found he didn’t have to give any thought to it after a short period of adjustment, and the during the brief moments of sleep he took, it was simple enough to maintain the enchantment without much effort.

He didn’t know what he was going to do if he found Morgana.  He wouldn’t kill her, he knew that, he had the opportunity to do so before she disappeared with Morgause but he hadn’t.  Even if Arthur had asked him to, he wasn’t sure he could have done it, not just yet.  He didn’t want to have to be ruthless and callous, and murder in cold-blood.  He did want to watch them, to find out what they knew, what their plans were, and he’d take it from there.  He didn’t know what else he could do.

He worried about Arthur too - he knew Arthur would be angry, and that wasn’t likely to change much in the half hour he had before Merlin planned to return.  But perhaps seeing as he planned to return unharmed, so quickly, Arthur’s temper wouldn’t escalate.  Perhaps. 

His disappointment was acute when it became apparent that neither Morgana nor Morgause were anywhere near Cenred’s castle.  Merlin felt a little numb, he’d been sure they’d be there, but there was no sign they’d ever returned.  There was no lingering scent of their magic anywhere.  He would have known if they’d been there recently.

During the past year, he’d become more aware of a gift he’d not previously known he’d had, the ability to smell the different scents attached to users of magic and thus interpret the user’s spirit.  Anyone capable of magic had such a scent, it depended upon the power and ethics of the user as to whether the smell was the sweetest perfume or worse than rotting garbage.

He’d surprised Kilgharrah when he’d discussed this ability with him, so he knew it was very uncommon, and probably unique to him alone.  The Druid Chieftain who’d given them the Cup of Life had smelt like the earth after a rainstorm, fresh and unsullied, yet the smell was only subtle.  Merlin suspected the subtleness was not so much to do with lack of power, but more that druid’s control over his magic was strong, not allowing too much of the magic scent to escape unless he was performing magic.  On the spirit of his magic alone, Merlin was sure he was a good man, although he didn’t know if he could be completely trusted, only time would tell.

By the time he’d made a complete sweep of the castle and surrounding town he accepted Morgana and Morgause were nowhere in the vicinity.  There were people enough here, no warriors of course, but older men, and women and children.  He wondered how long it would be before a neighbouring kingdom took advantage of the lack of warriors and came to claim it.  He hoped Arthur wouldn’t.  He didn’t want to see more suffering.

He thought about what to do next.  If they weren’t sheltering in Cenred’s castle, it was likely they were with the druids, or some of the druids at least may know of their whereabouts.  He wondered how many different camps had sheltered Morgana those twelve months ago.  Did Morgana have particular ties with any?  He didn’t know.  He could search, but it would take some time, and he would need to return to the earth’s time to do it properly, he’d need to make contact with people.  And he needed supplies, he had to be able to do this and still protect Arthur, Gwen, Gaius and all of them, and stop any random magical attacks on Camelot.  He didn’t know how he’d manage it all.

There was nothing else to do but return to Camelot.  He was tired, so tired.  His ankle hurt, he’d stumbled over a rabbit hole and twisted it, he was filthy, and covered in scratches because he’d not been paying enough attention when passing through a particular green blur on the way back that turned out to be a patch of briers and thorns.  The cuts weren’t deep, but they stung.  He just wanted a bath, some dry clothes and something decent to eat, then be able to fall asleep for a day and forget everything, just for a while.

He returned to Camelot, back to his spot on the battlements.  Arthur, Lancelot and Percival had gone, presumably back to Arthur’s chambers to wait for him.  He checked, there were no guards around, no one to give a headache to when he came back.  He released his magic slowly and swayed a little as he passed out of his own time.  The earth anchored him, colours and shapes gradually stabilised, becoming familiar walls of the castle again.  He was home.

He sighed, and considered skipping the confrontation in Arthur’s chambers but there was not much point putting off the inevitable.  He went to face the music.

**************************************

Merlin was late.  Arthur had been watching the door to his chambers for a full half hour, his apprehension growing.  Where was he?

Percival and Lancelot were still here, they’d followed him back after Merlin had disappeared and were sitting down patiently at the table, waiting.  Percival hadn’t asked a single question, and Arthur had never appreciated the man’s silence more than he did now, the prince was grateful because he wasn’t able to concentrate on anything except trying to keep a lid on his ever-increasing sense of dread.  Gwaine had shown up a short time ago and after one look at their faces, displayed uncommon good sense by remaining quiet and still.

A knock and the door opened.  Arthur’s senses leapt, but it was only Elyan, followed by Gwen.  Gwen came straight across to the fireplace where Arthur was standing.  He felt some of the tension leave him as he took her in his arms.

“Did you find him?”

Arthur nodded, but he couldn’t speak past the sudden obstruction in his throat.  He buried his face in Gwen’s hair and closed his eyes, holding her tightly.  He felt ridiculously emotional lately, odd mood swings tied up in his worry about Merlin.  It was such _girlish_ behaviour, and he fought against it and despised himself for it.  He prided himself on his own self-control, these emotions jumping all over the place in the past week aggravated him.

Ever since he’d found out about Merlin’s magical abilities and his dragon he’d been consumed by tension and anxiety for him, and he couldn’t understand himself.  Part of him figured if Merlin had some magic then he’d look after himself alright but the dominant thought screamed that Merlin was still nothing more than the hopeless, clumsy idiot he’d always been and having magic didn’t change anything, he was still completely useless and incompetent in a fight.  He needed Arthur’s protection, like he always had.  And maybe the dragon had been taking it easy on him, he’d had to, a dragon couldn’t hurt a dragonlord, he’d even said so.

Which made having Merlin run off _himself_ to face two dangerous blood-thirsty sorceresses very difficult to stomach.  Merlin really shouldn’t be fighting at all.  The thought of everything that could go wrong with the whole scenario made Arthur feel sick.

Gwen felt his tension and was worried.  “Arthur, what is it?  Is Merlin alright?  Where is he?”

Arthur swallowed, and said quietly, “He’s gone to find Morgana and Morgause.  I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t.  He wouldn’t listen.”

Gwen looked up at him, concerned, her hands cupping his face.  He twisted around so his back was to the men, ashamed to show the distress he was feeling in front of them.

He said in a low voice, “He said he’d be back by now, but he’s not, he’s late.”

“Arthur, I don’t understand.  If he’s gone to find Morgana, we won’t see him for days, maybe more.”

Arthur rubbed his forehead.  “Merlin can do something with time, Gwen.  Move outside it, I don’t really understand how, but he said he might be gone for a week, but it would be less than half an hour for us.  He should be back by now, he’s not, and I don’t even know how to start to look for him.”

The door opened again, Arthur spun around, and there he was.  Merlin looked awful, he was covered in dirt and scratches, he had a smear of mud on his jaw, a sleeve of his blue shirt was torn, his hair was sticking up at odd angles, and he looked like he’d not slept for a week. 

Arthur was further away from him than anyone else, but he still got to Merlin first.  Arthur slammed the door closed, Merlin backed up against it, wincing, as one of Arthur’s hands grabbed his arm.  “Who attacked you?  What happened?”

Merlin was bewildered, he frowned at Arthur, looked like he was going to say something but then Lancelot, Gwaine and everyone else was crowding around them.

“Mate, you look terrible!  What happened?”

Merlin was grateful for the reprieve, he slid away from Arthur nervously, tugging his arm out of his grasp, head turning from one person to another as he attempted to acknowledge the questions being flung at him from all directions.

Arthur lost his temper.  “That’s it!  Everyone out now – except you Merlin – leave now, you can meet me tomorrow morning in the council chambers and I’ll fill you in then.  Do _not_ discuss this between yourselves, that’s an order.  Now go!”  Impatient, he man-handled everyone out when they were too slow for his liking, giving Gwen a quick apologetic kiss on the mouth as he shut the door behind her.

He turned around.  From across the room, Merlin gave him an edgy grin and shrugged his shoulders.  The expression was so familiar that Arthur felt something twist and clench inside him, he didn’t know if he was furiously angry or ready to bawl his eyes out.  He clutched at the simpler emotion and was across the room in an instant, and Merlin took an uneasy step backwards at the sight of the tempest bearing down upon him.

“You bloody idiot!”  The words were snarled, he saw the hurt flash in Merlin’s eyes, and Arthur’s anger vanished as quickly as it had appeared.  It was no effort this time, without thought he crushed Merlin into an embrace, holding onto him with desperate strength, overwhelming relief making his arms tight and tense.  “Damn you, what were you thinking!  She could have killed you!”

Merlin struggled a moment, then calmed, when he realised the hug wasn’t meant to be fatal.  Barely audible, he said, “I had to go, Arthur.  There was no other way.”

Arthur let out a huff of exasperation, and stepped back, letting his arms fall to his sides.  He thought better of whatever retort he was going to make, Merlin’s eyes were strained, he looked exhausted and barely capable of staying on his feet.

Arthur said quietly, “How long?  How long were you away?”

Merlin shrugged.  “It’s difficult to tell.  Probably a week or so.”

“You don’t look like you’ve slept at all.  You’re exhausted.  And you’re filthy.”  He wrinkled his nose.  “And you stink.”

Merlin snorted and managed a half-hearted glare.  “Well, yes, you would too in the same situation.”

Arthur waved his hand at the tub full of water behind a screen near the fireplace on the other side of the room.  “Look.  Have a bath, someone bought it up for me earlier, I haven’t used it.”

Merlin took a step back, then another.  “Um... uh, ... Arthur you _hugged_ me, and now you want me to bath, in your room?”

Arthur gave him a speaking look.  “Oh, for goodness sake, how many times have I been in that tub in front of you!  If you were Gwen you’d have something to worry about, but you’re not her, _thankfully_.  And _I did not hug you._   If you tell anyoneI did, I will deny it and make your life a _living hell_.”

Merlin tried to seem concerned.  “What, more than you already do?”

“Yeah.”  Arthur put his hands on his hips and assumed a dispassionate tone.  “I merely expressed _concern_ for your wellbeing.  Just get in the bath.  I am trying to be thoughtful, something you regularly accuse me of not being _._   You are clearly about to crash on your feet, instead of going to the bathing rooms at the bottom of the castle and lugging around water and tubs, I am merely being _considerate_ and offering you the use of this one.  First and last time though.”

Merlin stared and Arthur gave him a look of exasperation.  “The water is probably freezing by now, do the gold eye thingy and I’ll go to your room and get you a change of clothes.”

Merlin kept staring at him like he wasn’t sure where the real Arthur had gone, then an enigmatic smile crept across his face.  “Sure, why not?  That’s usually how I heat your water, after all.  Don’t think I bother boiling it over the fireplace when I – as you so cleverly phrased it – can do the _gold eye thingy_.”

**************************************

Merlin was in the water when Arthur returned a short time later.  He dropped a towel and a change of clothes over the screen in front of the tub, and placed a platter of bread, cheese, fruit and meats on the table that he’d requisitioned from a passing servant.  He sat down at the table, his back to Merlin.

“Gaius picked the clothes for you.  I told him you’d gone off to find Morgana but you were back now.  It seems, Merlin, he didn’t know about your little adventures with time.  He wasn’t too happy.  You’re going to have some explaining to do later.”

The water sloshed, he assumed Merlin was getting out.  “Thanks a lot, Arthur, you didn’t have to tell him anything!”

“I had to tell him something if I was getting your clothes!”

“Yes.  Well.  True.”

“Are you going to tell me how you were injured?  Who hurt you, were you captured?”

“Umm ...”

“Merlin?”

“It’s a bit embarrassing.  No one captured me, no one saw me, I _told_ you no one would!”

“Explain it, then.”

Merlin’s voice was muffled as he pulled the shirt on over his head.  “There’s not much to explain.  See, I fell over a rabbit hole and twisted my ankle, and I didn’t notice a bramble patch, that’s how I got all these scratches.  I’m fine.”

“Rabbit hole, yes, you’ve done that before.  But bramble patch Merlin, come on, how could you not notice it?  It must have been huge with the amount of cuts you have!”

Merlin sat down opposite Arthur at the table, and pulled the platter of food across.  “Not that you’d know, but when you move outside the earth’s time, things happen to look a little bit different.  The bramble patch was just another green blur in the forest and I didn’t notice it until it was too late!”

Arthur cleared his throat and covered his mouth with the back of hand for a moment and swallowed several times.  Merlin glowered suspiciously.

Arthur recovered.  “So, did you find her?”

Merlin shook his head and picked up a slice of cheese.  “No.  There was no trace of either of them.  They’d never been back there.  But if they return I’ll know, I put wards around, they’ll last a few weeks, wasn’t that a good idea?”

“So now what?”

“Now?”

“I’m sure you have another idea.”

“I’ll make contact with the druids, see if they have heard anything.”

“You know some druids?”

“The one that gave us the Cup of Life, I thought I’d try him.”

“Merlin, do you know him?”  Arthur poured cider into two goblets and pushed one across the table to Merlin.

Merlin yawned.  “No.  But I know his name is Iseldir, he’s a Druid Chieftain.  We spoke, but you didn’t hear, he used mind speech.”

“Mind speech?”

“He speaks in my mind, I speak in his, you know.”

“Not really.”  A pause.  “Well if we should contact him, what makes you think he’d want to help us?”

“I don’t know if he’ll help us, but he’s the only one I know to ask.  You’ve met him before Arthur, he told me so, do you remember?”

“Um, he does look familiar, but I can’t recall.”

Merlin yawned again.  “You returned Mordred to him, which is not necessarily .... good ... but his magic Arthur, there is something good about it, I am sure of it.  He is powerful for a druid, because he knew my name, although the chieftains usually do.  His magic is about as strong as Morgause’s, probably a little stronger, and she is reasonably powerful in her own way.”

Arthur latched on to the one thing he hadn’t meant to give away.  “What do you mean, he knew your name, and the chieftains usually do?”

Merlin flushed and said awkwardly, “Forget it.”

“No, I want to know, what did you mean by that?”

Merlin hurriedly picked up a slice of meat and took a bite, suddenly concerned about proper table manners, his mouth full.  “Hmmm?”

“ _Mer_ lin?”

He chewed and swallowed, Arthur looked at him expectantly.  “You’re not going to give up until I tell you, are you?  Fine.”  He took a sip of his drink, thinking.  “Did you know the druids believe in prophecies, a prediction of the future, of things to come?”

“Yes.  Do you believe them too?”

Merlin was surprised, “Of course, they are always right.”  Then he seemed to realise what he’d said, and shifted uncomfortably and popped another piece of meat into his mouth.

 _“Merlin?_ ” __

“Yes, yes, just let me think.”  He eyed Arthur, considering, then came to a decision.  “Alright, you asked for it.”  He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.  “There is a prophecy concerning you.”

“What?  Me?”

“Yes.  You are the Once and Future King.  It is your destiny to unite all Albion and return magic to the land.”

Arthur dropped his goblet, it clattered over and cider sloshed across the table.

“I told you, you weren’t ready to hear it!  I warned you only a few days ago!  But do you ever listen to me?  No, you always know better, you had to insist!”

Arthur seemed to recover more rapidly than Merlin had expected, but he’d had a lot of shocks to deal with lately, maybe he was getting blasé about it all.  Arthur set his goblet upright carefully, and wiped the liquid off his fingers and onto his shirt.  He said slowly, “So, that’s me, the Once and Future King, uniting Albion and returning magic.”  He looked at Merlin.  “But what has this to do with you, and the druid chieftains usually knowing your name?”

“Oh.  That.  The other part of the prophecy says that without guidance and assistance from the warlock Emrys, you will fail in your task, and Albion will descend to chaos and be lost forever.”

Arthur said slowly, “I have heard of Emrys.”

Now it was Merlin’s turn to be shocked.  “You have?  How could you, what?”

Arthur met Merlin’s eyes.  “Once, a few years ago, before you came to Camelot, I was ill for a week.  It was easier for Gaius to treat me if I stayed in his chambers.  One day I had a look through some of the books he had lying around, one was a borderline magic text and I’ve never seen it since then.  I read about this Emrys: the druids have been waiting for him for eons, the most powerful warlock who has ever been, or will ever be, in all time.”

Merlin stared wide-eyed for a moment, then ducked his head and fidgeted, picking up an apple and chopping a slice off with the knife.  He nicked his finger and winced, hissing in annoyance at the brief pain.  Then Arthur made the next leap, one Merlin hadn’t thought was _quite_ so obvious.  His mouth gaped and he looked across at Merlin.

Arthur said, incredulous and dumfounded, “Oh bloody hell, you’re Emrys!”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Arthur said, incredulous and dumfounded, “Oh bloody hell, you’re Emrys!”

Merlin decided he didn’t want the apple after all.  “Well, yes, I am.  That’s correct.  But you know, I’m _very_ tired now.”  He pushed back his chair abruptly and stood up, getting as far as the door before Arthur had recovered enough to speak again.

“Oh no you don’t, Merlin!”

Merlin sighed, but he didn’t let go of the door handle.  He turned back around reluctantly.  “We’ve established who you are, who I am, and the reason for our existence.  Wraps it all up, don’t you think?  And I am very, very, tired.  Please, Arthur.”

“You’re avoiding this conversation.”

Silence for a moment.  “Yes, I am.”  He pushed back, testing.  “But I have gone for more than a week with very little sleep.  Another day, huh?”

Arthur considered it.  He was perfectly aware the dynamics in their friendship were slowly changing, and had been in fact, for many months now.  A year ago he would not have given much consideration to riding roughshod over Merlin’s wishes in order to pursue his own agenda.  Even now, he knew if he insisted Merlin stay and discuss this further with him, then Merlin would.  Arthur was a prince, after all, accustomed to giving orders and having them obeyed.  But still, even when Merlin obeyed he’d always done it under his own terms, and Arthur honestly didn’t mind, most of the time.

And now ... things had changed again.  Merlin was changing too, or maybe it was just that Arthur was aware of other facets of his personality, he was more assertive than he’d once been, stronger with his opinions and wishes, and the knowledge that Arthur respected them.

“I’ll let you get away with that tonight, Merlin.  Another day it will be then.”

A slight smile.  “Then I’ll be back to wake you up in the morning, alright?”

**************************************

As it was, despite planning to rouse Arthur at his usual time and bring him breakfast, Merlin didn’t wake up until the sun was well up, and that was only because he felt Gaius shaking his shoulder.

He groaned, “Oh no, what time is it?  I was meant to wake Arthur early.”

Gaius patted him.  “Arthur called in this morning and told me to let you sleep in.  But you need to get up now, we both have a round table meeting soon.”

Merlin rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, yawning, and sat up in bed.  “We do?”

Gaius turned in the doorway to Merlin’s room.  “Get dressed, I’ve some broth for your breakfast.”

Merlin made a face.  “Broth?  For breakfast?”

“You need something to build you up again after all the _time_ you spent running around last night.”

“Uh.”  Merlin looked guilty, and thought better of protesting further.  “Broth.  Yum.  Thanks.”

He hurried to change into day clothes and swallow down some of Gaius’s offering, then followed his mentor to their meeting.

They’d moved the Round Table into the castle a few days after the battle.  It sat in the middle of a large room not far from the Throne Room, overlooking the eastern courtyard.  The Pendragon banners took precedence either side of the fireplace, and a large ornamental sword that had once belonged to one of Arthur’s ancestors hung between the banners.

Merlin and Gaius were the last to arrive.  All the other places were taken, those in attendance were Arthur, Gwen, Lancelot, Gwaine, Percival, Elyan and Leon.

Gaius murmured an apology for their lateness, and Merlin took his place beside Arthur.  He felt a little awkward, guessing what was coming, and studied the pattern on the table, not wanting to meet anyone’s eyes.

Arthur spoke.  “I hardly need tell you, that what we speak of does not leave this room.  It certainly can _never_ be mentioned to my father.”  He waited for acknowledgement, looking at them all individually before continuing.

“I’ve called you here today, as I have reason to believe that Morgana may attack Camelot soon.”  Arthur paused, and looked around the table.  “You may wonder why I’m bothering to mention it; her army is dead so you may think that means she is not much of a threat.  However, there is something else you all should know.  Morgana has magic, so the danger she poses to us is very real.  She may specifically target each of you in revenge for her recent defeat.  You must all be on your guard.  To add to that, although injured, Morgause is still alive, and you all know what horrors she is capable of.  Together they are a valid threat to us all.”

“Morgana has magic, Arthur?”  Leon was clearly surprised.

Merlin looked up and caught Percival watching him, he looked away.

“She does.  To defeat her, we must fight magic, with magic.”

There was silence around the table as the impact of those words sank in.  Leon and Elyan were regarding Arthur with bewilderment, everyone else except Gaius was looking at him.  Merlin fidgeted and concentrated on the carvings on the table again, tracing around the one nearest him with the tips of his fingers.

Arthur pressed on.  “We need to discuss what we should do.  Do we wait for her return, or do we seek to locate her?  Merlin has been to Cenred’s kingdom, but is sure neither Morgana nor Morgause have taken refuge there.  Merlin-” Arthur turned to him, “-has suggested we make contact with the druids to find her.”

Merlin nodded but didn’t offer any comments.  Leon and Elyan were puzzled and he knew why, not only had Arthur mentioned magic, they were now wondering how and when Merlin had managed to make the journey to Cenred’s kingdom when he’d been seen daily at Camelot since the battle.  Percival was looking thoughtful.

Leon asked the question, his gaze shifting from Arthur to Merlin and back again.  He addressed the query to Arthur.  “How then, do we fight magic with magic?”

There was silence.  Merlin leant back in his chair and looked at Arthur, not sure if he was _really_ annoyed at him for pulling rank.  He was at least a _bit_ annoyed though, as clearly this meeting was going to be Merlin’s great revelation, whether he wanted it to be or not.  After all, he’d told Arthur he wanted the magic kept secret, but there weren’t many of their group who didn’t know by now.  Still ... he decided now might be the time to try out mind speech on Arthur.  _“You realise I’m going to get you, for this, you know!”_

Arthur jumped visibly and shot Merlin a startled look, his eyes wide.  Merlin blinked innocently.

Leon looked from Arthur to Merlin, confused by this display.  “And when on earth did Merlin go to Cenred’s kingdom?  I’ve seen him here every day.”

Merlin had no intention of explaining, throwing the question back to Arthur.  “Sire?”

Just one word, but Arthur registered the formality in his tone and put a hand on his shoulder.  “I know you didn’t want me to do this, but they have to know.  I’m sorry, but it’s necessary.”  He waited, trying to read Merlin’s expression but unsuccessful in his endeavours.  He kept his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, and said bluntly, “We fight their magic, with our own.”  He focused on Elyan and Leon, the ones who did not yet know.  “Merlin is our secret weapon.  He has magic.”

Leon visibly started, looking around the table from one face to another, but the obvious lack of surprise only deepened his confusion.  “Merlin, has _magic?_ ”Clearly doubtful, he frowned at Arthur and blurted, “Are you sure, sire?”

Arthur looked at Merlin.  “Do you want to show him?”

Merlin folded his arms and shrugged.  “No, not really.”

Before Arthur could say anything, Gwaine chipped in.  “Come on, Merlin.  Do something magical!”

Merlin winced, Arthur clapped his shoulder, and Merlin sighed, resigned, and went for the predictable option.  “Very well.  Shall I turn Arthur into a toad?”

Arthur’s mouth twitched in amusement and Gwaine’s face lit up, but Gaius cut in, shocked.  _“Merlin!”_

“Oh, I wasn’t going to.”  He added in mind speech for Arthur’s benefit, _“Not right now, anyway._ ”  He looked around the room for inspiration and spied the fireplace.  The wood was laid but the fire was not yet lit.  He pushed back his chair and walked over.  He knew they were watching him but he kept his back turned; it felt very strange to be performing magic in front of so many people.  He didn’t need to speak the word but it was more commonly assumed to be necessary, so he whispered, _“Forbearne,”_ and as the flames took hold he turned around, registering the differing expressions.

He leant with his back against the fireplace.  Would he?  Might as well.  His eyes deepened to gold again, and the flames danced out from the fireplace, changing into fiery golden animals:  birds, horses, fish, deer, a dragon, and more.  This was something he’d done often with Will when it was just the two of them back in Ealdor, long ago.  There was silence around the table as they watched the display flying around the room, wheeling and soaring, beauty and grace, then just as suddenly, they disappeared and Merlin’s eyes faded to blue.

Arthur walked across to him and put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back to his seat.  “Thank you.”

Leon looked like he wanted to ask more questions, he was eyeing Merlin curiously, but Arthur wasn’t allowing an interrogation from anyone.  He pressed on.  “I believe we need to pursue Morgana, rather than wait for her to come to us.  Merlin and I will seek out the druids.  I need two volunteers to travel with us.  Leon, I want you to stay here, you and Gaius will be the authority in Camelot during my absence.”

Before anyone could volunteer, Merlin said, “Uh, Arthur, that’s not necessary.”

Arthur frowned, and a note of command entered his voice.  “You’re not going by yourself.  You may run into her.  I forbid it!  It’s too dangerous!”

Merlin was irritated, what was the point of Arthur seeing that little display of fighting skill with Kilgharrah, he had no idea who the defenceless one really was.  “Arthur I am perfectly capable of looking after myself!  But that was not what I meant.  You don’t need to go out to seek the druids.”

“If you try and go again alone –“

“No!  Will you just let me finish!  None of us need to leave Camelot to seek the druids.  I’ll contact them from here.”

“You’re not –“  Arthur’s mind caught up.  “Oh.  How is that possible?”

Merlin sighed, a demonstration was the easiest thing to do, it might limit the questions.  He said nothing aloud but they heard him anyway, all except Gaius exhibiting the same shocked surprise of Arthur’s first experience.

 _“Mind speech.  I will contact Iseldir from Camelot.”_   He added for the benefit of everyone, excluding Arthur, _“Iseldir is the Druid Chieftain who saved Leon with water from the Cup of Life.”_

Gaius voiced his concern.  “Merlin, are you sure you can do that?  Telepathy does not usually work over long distances and I thought the druids were far away when you met them.  And others who should not hear, may hear you, if you try.”

Merlin reverted back to verbal speech.  “I know it will work, Gaius.  And no one else will hear me.  I am sure of it.”

They all looked at him.  He shrugged, slightly uncomfortable with all the attention.  “What?”

Gaius pressed, “And what of Iseldir?  He may have saved Leon, but are you sure he can be trusted on this?  The druids are a peaceful race, he is just as likely to shelter Morgana and Morgause from harm, as he is to help you.”

Merlin didn’t want to have a conversation about their previous involvement with Iseldir, or the scent and spirit of magic, and why he felt Iseldir was trustworthy to a limited extent, in front of everyone.  “Uh, could we discuss this later, Gaius?”

Arthur frowned.  “No, why?”

Merlin ran a hand through his hair and said softly, looking down, “I have nothing more to say.”  He sounded more abrupt than he’d meant to, he knew Arthur was about to argue but Merlin cut him off with mind speech.

 _“Please, Arthur.  I’m sorry.  I have done as you’ve asked, I’ve shown my magic to them all.  But I am not comfortable about it, you know I have been conditioned since birth not to reveal myself.  I trust you, but I won’t speak of it further here.  Don’t push me too far, too fast.  I am leaving this room now.  I’ll find you later, if you wish.  Arthur, no more now, please.”_

“Alright, Merlin.”  Arthur knew the others would realise something had passed between them but he didn’t care.  “That’s enough, for us all, for now.  The meeting is over.”

 

**************************************

Merlin sat alone, in his spot high in the battlements, eyes shut, head leaning back against the stone wall.  He tried to tell himself he wasn’t waiting, but he was, and he didn’t have to wait long.  He didn’t open his eyes, he’d know Arthur’s footsteps anywhere, the hurried tread across the cobblestones then the slight pause as he finally spotted what he’d been searching for.

Arthur sat down, leaning against the wall beside Merlin, their shoulders touching.  The sun was bright, high in the sky, and the rough leather of Arthur’s jacket was warm against Merlin’s arm.  The prince was patient, something he’d learnt to be lately, sitting in silence, waiting for Merlin to take the lead to speak when he was ready.

Finally Merlin sighed and opened his eyes.  “I forgot to tell you earlier, Cenred is dead.”

“Dead?  How?  Was he one of the immortal warriors too?”

“I don’t think so.  I don’t know how it happened, but he is definitely dead.  Everyone was talking about it.”

They were quiet again.  Merlin watched the clouds float by, and let Arthur’s non-demanding presence and the silence calm his soul.  He could feel Arthur looking at him musingly.

“Merlin, will you tell me who Freya is?”

The question came out of the blue, Merlin was unprepared for it, and his sense of calm vanished abruptly.  “Did you overhear _everything_ I discussed with Kilgharrah, Arthur?”

He felt Arthur shift beside him.  “Will you tell me?”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“I think it does.”

Merlin’s face was impassive.  “I’ll tell you.  She was a druid girl.  It’s not important, I knew her for less than a week.  She died.  It was long ago.”

“She was important to you.  You spoke of her with your dragon like you’d seen her recently.”

“Look, Arthur ...”  Merlin shook his head.  “No.  Leave it.  Please.”

Arthur took a stab in the dark.  “You loved her?”

For a moment he thought Merlin wasn’t going to answer, but then said almost inaudibly, “Yes.  Perhaps too much.  And sometimes I wonder if that’s why she died.”  He looked down at his hands.  “You see, I was going to leave Camelot, and you, to be with her.  Then what would have happened to this destiny we share?”  He swallowed.  “It was long ago, I was less focused on the path I must follow, back then.  And you weren’t really my friend.  I allowed my own needs to take precedence over all of Albion.  I wouldn’t do that now, Arthur.”

“I’m sorry.”  The words seemed inadequate, but they were all Arthur had.

Merlin wanted a change of subject, he couldn’t talk about her, not now, he wasn’t ready.  “How’s Leon handling this discovery of magic?”

A quick glance at Merlin and Arthur followed his cue.  “He’s loyal, Merlin.  I’m confident we have his silence.”

“You might be, but that’s because he’s loyal to you.  I don’t know him so well.  But I guess, prat, I have to trust you, don’t I?”

Arthur grabbed him in a headlock and ruffled his hair.  “Watch the insults, _Merlin_.”

“Ow!”  Arthur let him go, Merlin was smiling again. 

Arthur nudged him with an elbow.  “Have you contacted Iseldir yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Merlin?  You must promise me you will not go after Morgana and Morgause by yourself.”

“I’m not sure I could defeat them alone.  Anyway, I can’t leave you all here unprotected.”

“So you wouldn’t?”

“If you don’t want me to, then I will do as you ask.  She might have more than magical strength, it would not surprise me if she allied herself with another king.  But you do not understand Arthur, when I went to look for her in Cenred’s kingdom, she could not have found me.  If I go in my own time no one can follow me, it’s not possible.”  He hesitated, and then offered with careful indifference, “I can show you, if you like.”

“What do you mean?  Take me into your time, with you?”

“Yes.”  He didn’t look at Arthur as he answered.  Would Arthur trust him enough for this?  Did he really accept his magic enough to be willing to experience it too?  Merlin tried to prepare himself for the rejection he’d feel when Arthur said no to his offer.

“Alright.  Now?”

“That’s it?  No questions?  You mean, you will?”

Arthur wacked him playfully over the back of the head.  “You’re a bit slow, today, Merlin.  Get on with it.  What do I have to do?”

“Well.  Um, I haven’t tried this with anyone before.  But I’m sure it will work.”  He eyed Arthur.  “Are you certain you want to try it?  It is a little experimental.”

“I trust you, Merlin,” he said simply.

Merlin stared at him, a lump in his throat.  He broke the eye contact hurriedly.  “Alright.  Now you must hold on to me all the time.  Whatever you do, don’t let go.”  He stood up, and Arthur followed suit.  “Now hold onto me around the arm.”  Arthur held on but Merlin hesitated.  “No, I’d better hold on to you.  You might accidentally let go.”

“I won’t.”

“You might.  Remember, I’m the expert on this.”  He tucked one arm under Arthur’s, and took a firm grip near his shoulder.  “Ready?”

“When you are.”

Merlin’s eyes glowed.  Arthur felt like he was rushing through a tunnel in the sky with the wind pounding at his face, it was both utterly exhilarating and completely terrifying.  His skin felt too tight for his body, he was everywhere and nowhere all at once, he could feel everyone and everything, yet he was so alone, the only link to sanity holding tightly around the arm.  He was falling through space and time, and he almost fell there and then, he could barely stop himself falling over.  He shut his eyes automatically, in increments his senses stabilised, and when he opened his eyes again he found Merlin smiling at him. 

“You alright, prat?”

He concentrated on his anchor, Merlin.  There was a faint gold sheen surrounding him.  “I think so.  Is it always like this?”

Merlin was amused but sympathetic.  “I don’t know what your experience is like, Arthur.  I’ve been doing this for so long it feels normal to me now.  And I have magic, that neutralises some of the effects for me.  I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that, it will make it more difficult for you.  But we are through now, do you want to continue or is it too much?”

Arthur straightened and looked around.  The castle was still there, but there was a sheen surrounding it too.  He stretched out a hand to the wall and the sheen moved.  No, the sheen wasn’t around the castle, it was around him, the same gold sheen that Merlin had encircling him.  Arthur touched the wall, it felt just like it always did, cool and firm.  His hands shimmered where they touched the stone.  He lifted his hand back up to his face, turning it over and examining it.

“Prat?”

“I’m glowing.”  He looked up in time to see Merlin fight back a grin.

“You are,” Merlin agreed solemnly.  “Now what do you want to do?”

Arthur didn’t have to think.  “Um?  How about go see what Gwen’s up to?”

“Arthur!  We are not spying on Gwen!  That’s off!”

“I didn’t meant it like that!  I just wanted to see where she is, what she’s doing.”

“Hmmm.  Very well, but I’ll dump you back into the earth’s time in front of her without warning if you cop an eyeful of something you’re not meant to see!”

“You wouldn’t!”

“No, you’re right, I wouldn’t.  But I’d like you to think I would, it might make you behave.  Come on, are you ready?  Let’s go.”

Arthur followed the tug on his arm and they walked around the battlements and towards the staircase. 

Merlin stopped at the top of the stairs.  “Now be careful.  We’ll take it slowly.”

They made it to the bottom without incident, and Arthur stopped for a moment at the sight of two guards at the end of the passageway.  “Will they see us?  Should we be quiet?”

“Don’t worry about them.”  Merlin tugged his arm again to get him to keep walking.  “I told you before, no one can see us, no one can hear us.  We’re here, but we’re not here, I don’t know how to explain it.  Now let’s go down to the kitchens first, I want to get something to eat.”

“I thought we were going to find Gwen.”

“We have time for that.”  Merlin grinned at his own wit.  “This always makes me hungry, we’ll get something to eat on the way.  Now,” he tightened his grip on Arthur’s arm as they continued down the passageway.  “I want to speed up things a bit here, there aren’t any stairs and we won’t meet many people for a while, you should be right.  Ready?”

“I have no idea what you mean, Merlin.”

“Then you’ll find out, let’s go.”

For a moment Arthur felt like he’d left his stomach behind, the castle walls pulsed and throbbed, moving in time to the sound of his own breathing.  A roar of sound filled his ears, rushing around his head.  His vision blurred and he blinked, but no, it wasn’t his vision it was everything outside their gold sheen that was behaving strangely.

“Uh, I take it back about the bramble patch, Merlin.  Why are the walls moving?”

The blurring stopped and everything came into focus again.  “Sorry, I should have known that was too much.  How’s this?”

“Better.”  Arthur found he could walk again without feeling that his feet were about to sink through the stone floor.

It was almost lunchtime, the kitchens were the usual hive of activity that time of day.  Merlin propped Arthur up against a wall and waved a hand in the direction of the trays of food.  “Do you want something to eat now?  Or will I take a tray and bring it to your room for later?”

“Uh, Merlin, if you think you can manage this time thing and carry a tray, be my guest.  But how are you going to dodge between everyone?”

“They won’t come near us, something repels contact between the two times.  But if we do make contact accidentally it won’t matter, they won’t feel it and they won’t notice.”

Merlin picked up a tray and murmured, _“Dierne, áféh, befylge mec!”_

His eyes flashed, and the tray floated in mid-air beside him.  Arthur gave him a look and Merlin shrugged.  “How did you think I was going to carry it while I’m holding onto you?  Now what do you want to eat?  Cheese?  Meat?  What about the soup, it looks like chicken and vegetable today.”  He placed a little of everything on the tray.

Arthur reached for a bread roll on a platter, but when he touched it his fingers went right through it like it wasn’t even there.  Or maybe it was because he wasn’t there.  Merlin watched curiously.  “That’s interesting.”  He picked up the roll and held it out to Arthur.  “Can you take it now, from me?”

He could.  He held it up to Merlin then took a bite.  Merlin was fascinated.  “Can you put it down on the tray?”  Arthur tried, it worked.  “Odd.”  They headed out of the kitchen, the tray following obediently behind them, the soup sloshing against the edges of the bowl.  Merlin was chewing on his own bread roll now.  “Where do you think Gwen might be?”

“If it’s lunchtime, she’s probably at her home.  Can we go there?”

Merlin didn’t answer that, he was sure he didn’t have a choice.  He tugged Arthur down one of the side passageways, a servant’s shortcut, but then his face fell.  “Oh no.”

“What is it?”

“Uh.  Something I forgot about.”

Arthur couldn’t keep the concern out of his voice.  “Are we stuck here?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!  But no, nothing like that.  But we’d better return now.”

“Merlin?”

Merlin was uneasy.  “It’s just ... uh ... when I leave my own time and return back to the earth, I have to do it away from people as it gives everyone nearby a bit of a headache when my time is released.  Like you’ve drunk too much mead, Gaius says.  I forgot bringing you ... um, you might get one.  It may be, uh, unpleasant for you, I don’t actually know.  You see, you’re in it with me so you’re protected, but you’ll be there when I let the magic go.”

He risked a glance at Arthur and waited for the explosion, or at the very least, a whack across the head.  Trying to lighten the mood he offered, “I suppose I should have tried it out with Gwaine first, but then again, he’d never know the difference.”

Arthur sighed.  “Only you, Merlin, can have that irritating mixture of complete incompetence mixed with unbelievable ability.  Let’s get it over with, then.”

Merlin tugged on his arm, anxious to get moving.  “We’ll go to your chambers.  You might need to sleep it off straight away.”

“Merlin.”  Arthur sounded resigned to his fate and Merlin met his gaze guiltily.  “Cheer up, I did at least mention unbelievable ability.”  Merlin didn’t look any happier and Arthur rolled his eyes.  “Look, don’t worry about it.  Whether it works the way you planned, or it doesn’t, it doesn’t matter.  What matters is that you’re trusting me with your magic.”

“Maybe you’re wrong to trust me, Arthur, if I can’t even get this right.”

“Well, it won’t be the first time you’ve given me a headache.”

Merlin grimaced.  “Is that supposed to cheer me up?”

“Stop being such a girl about it!  I can handle a bit of pain.” 

They reached Arthur’s chambers and Merlin shut the door behind him, clicking the latch into place.  He walked the prince across the room.  The tray of food settled itself neatly on the table.  “This may make you feel lightheaded when we return, so sit down on the edge of the bed in case you lose your balance.”

“I’ll be alright.”

“Arthur!  I have magic and I still can get a bit woozy if I’ve been in it for a while, just do as I say for once!”

Arthur kept his silence and they both sat down on the edge of the bed.  Merlin took a deep breath.  “Look, I’m sorry for not thinking this through properly.  I shouldn’t have taken you.  I wanted you to experience something that is normal for me, to understand some of what I can do.  But it wasn’t necessary, I used magic for my own vanity, and it was wrong, and I’m sorry that you’ll be paying for my mistake.”

“I’m not angry with you, Merlin.  I want you to share your magic with me.  We’re in this together, remember?  I’m not angry.”

“Just wait.”  He looked directly into Arthur’s eyes, his own darkening until they were a deep, rich gold.  The room begin to spin around them, faster and faster, tightening and squeezing, the walls throbbed, the colours pulsed, then Arthur was lying on his back, dazed, looking up at the rich maroon canopy above his bed.

Arthur pushed himself up on one elbow.  Merlin was leaning against the table across the room, half-sitting on the edge, one arm crossed against his chest cupping his elbow, the other propped up beneath his chin.  He was watching Arthur, and he looked miserable.

Arthur sat up carefully, shaking his head slightly.  “So far, so good.”  Merlin’s expression didn’t change.

Still nothing, no headache.  Arthur stood up and walked unsteadily across to Merlin.  “See, I’m alright.”

Merlin was silent and Arthur reached past him to pick up a slice of cheese.  “Why don’t you sit down with me and have something to eat?”  Still no response.  “Merlin, I’m fine.”

Merlin rubbed his fingers across his forehead.  “I’d better go and contact Iseldir.”

“I’m fine, Merlin.”

“I hope so.”  He wouldn’t meet Arthur’s eyes.  “Look, I have to go.”

**************************************

 _Translations again (although I’m sure everyone knows the first one):_

 _Forbearne:  BURN_

 _Dierne, áféh, befylge mec!:  CONCEAL, HOLD, FOLLOW ME_


	9. Chapter 9

Merlin made his way back to the battlements, that was where he’d planned to contact Iseldir.  As well as the usual mind speech, he’d have to throw a hefty dose of magic with it to cast the enchantment past the normal limitations of telepathy, as well as ensuring it was only received by Iseldir.

He leant between two large pillars to conceal the glow in his eyes. 

 _Iseldir, Emrys seeks you.  Will you answer my call?_

He said nothing else, Iseldir knew where he lived.  He sent the thought out several times over the next half hour, then stopped when he was confident that it would have reached Iseldir’s ears.  Now he had to wait for him to make contact back.

He caught up with Arthur later.  “I’ve sent Iseldir a message.”

“What did he say?”

“Oh.  Well, I don’t know yet.  I don’t expect to hear from him for several days.”

“I thought you could reply instantly with this mind speech if you both had magic?”

“Well.”  Merlin’s cheekbones tinged with pink.  “You can.  But Gaius was correct when he said mind speech doesn’t usually work over great distances, it doesn’t, both participants generally have to be in the near vicinity.  But,” he hesitated, and added awkwardly, “I can throw it as far as I like.  But I don’t think he can.  So he won’t be able to reply until he’s closer to Camelot.”  He shrugged, slightly embarrassed.

***************

The response came three days later.  Merlin was idly cleaning Arthur’s armour in the prince’s chambers, without magic, because he wanted to use the time to think, when he heard Iseldir’s voice.

 _“Emrys, I am here.”_

 _“Do you come alone?”_

 _“I bring two with me, Calatin and Senias.”_

Merlin hadn’t met them.  He allowed Iseldir to sense his unease.  “ _Where will I find you?”_

 _“We are in the forest, near a clearing not far from Camelot’s south gates.”_

Merlin thought for a moment.  He knew Arthur would want to speak with Iseldir too, but Arthur was in one of his twice-weekly meetings where he met with the townsfolk to settle disputes, or address concerns they had about anything in particular.  It would be difficult to disturb him for the next hour without raising questions.  And, he wanted to meet Calatin and Senias before allowing Arthur anywhere near them, he did not know if they could be trusted.

He slipped into his own time, and made his way undetected into the forest.  They were there, where they said they’d be, back from the road, their long druid robes blending in to the camouflage of the trees.  Iseldir and two druids he’d not seen previously, both of them white-haired older men, he guessed them to be not much younger than Gaius.  They were silent and watchful, and being this close to Camelot they probably had good reason.  Merlin was close enough to them to touch, but they could not sense him at all, not in his time, not even when he allowed his feet to bend the grass as he walked.

He moved closer to the first man, the taller of the two, and took a deep breath, allowing the scent of the man’s magic to flow through him.   The aroma of his magic was much like Iseldir’s, of the earth and the trees, originating from nature.  Merlin was fairly satisfied there was nothing dark about him.

Then he turned his attention to the other.  The second man, the shorter one, was different, Merlin sensed the tang of old times, of caves, of secrets deep within the earth.  It wasn’t that there was the scent of evil about him, but that his power was raw, and he sensed the man’s vengeance, when angered, would be swift and unyielding.  Though polar opposites in belief to Uther, Merlin knew intrinsically he had the same nature, the capability for blindness, and the lack of adaptability to change.  He’d be merciless in his judgement, and he would judge too much because of his power allowed him that liberty.  He would do what he needed to further his own ends without considering the consequences.  Merlin wanted to reserve his own judgement on the second man, but he knew he would not trust him anywhere near Arthur alone. 

By the strength of the scent underpinning their magic, he assumed they were chieftains or at least high ranking druids.  He didn’t know how the druids ranked themselves, what hierarchies they had, but these two were clearly powerful, on a similar level to Iseldir.

He thought about returning to Camelot, and walking out to them normally, but with some amusement he decided with the last man at least, a demonstration of theatrics might better serve him.

He leant back against a nearby tree, his hands hanging casually by his side, fingers loose and relaxed, slowly returning to their time, his magic working subtly.  It did occur to him the time conversion may create some pain in them, but these men were skilled magic users, and the magic they carried in their veins should create enough natural protection for them to be unharmed.  With a quick burst of magic at the end, he appeared to them, mere seconds he’d spoken with Iseldir.

Almost in unison, they startled at the sight of him.  “How did you do that?”

It was the shorter one who’d spoken, the second one, the one he did not trust.  Merlin allowed himself a faint smile, he knew the man had sensed no incantation, nor the rush of sound and air usually associated with teleporting.  And to add to that, Merlin’s eyes had not appeared gold, they were always back to cerulean blue by the time he reappeared in the earth’s time.  He spoke to the one he’d wanted to see.  “Iseldir, thank you for heeding my call.”

“Emrys,” Iseldir nodded, then did something that startled Merlin.  He turned to Merlin, then bent his head respectfully and bowed.  “I will serve you, whenever you have need of me.”

“Thank you.”  Merlin was surprised.

Iseldir motioned the other druids to come forward.  “This is Calatin,” he motioned to the first druid, the one Merlin thought was much like Iseldir.  “And Senias.  They are both Chieftains from settlements near the Perilous Lands.  They were visiting my camp when you called.”

Merlin nodded a greeting at them, and Iseldir continued, “What assistance can I give you, Emrys?”

Distracted, Merlin glanced back at Camelot.  Since taking Arthur into his own time he’d found he could hear the prince across long distances, but only if Arthur used his name in verbal speech.  He wasn’t about to mention that to him though.  He thought it might be a side-effect of their travel through Merlin’s time together that would wear off in a few days, and he almost hoped it would, it was a little disturbing.  Arthur’s meeting must have finished earlier than expected, as Merlin had been able to hear him for the past few minutes, asking several different people throughout the castle variations of, “Have you seen Merlin?”

“I need to speak with you, Iseldir, but Prince Arthur will want to meet with you too.  You shouldn’t come into Camelot, so I‘ll bring him out to meet you.”  He added bluntly, using mind speech, and only to Iseldir.

 _“Bear in mind, when we speak, I will speak only with you.”_

Iseldir gave him a barely perceptible nod.

Senias spoke up.  “You are sure your prince will come with you?”

Merlin looked at him sharply.  “Yes.”

Senias did not speak further so Merlin continued, “One more thing, before I go to Arthur ...”  He wasn’t sure if he should expose his ignorance, but he really wanted to know, so why not?  After all, it wasn’t like Morgause would offer to tell him.  “What’s the incantation for teleporting?”

The three druids exchanged glances.  Catalin admitted, “I can’t do that.”

Iseldir was amused, Merlin guessed he was re-evaluating his opinion of the powerful Emrys.  “I use, _“Behile mec!_ _Nú forþweg fram hér!”_

When the third man was silent, Merlin asked pointedly, “Senias?  What of you?”

The man answered reluctantly, “I cannot teleport.”

Hmmm.  Merlin thought about it.  He didn’t think Iseldir’s incantation would work for him, his pronunciation was different too, but a variation of it probably would.

Iseldir warned him.  “Emrys, you must work your way up to such an incantation.  I do not suggest you try that spell without practising by sending objects through it first.  It’s not a spell you want to get wrong, the consequences can be fatal, and even experienced users can have accidents.  It requires great concentration and focus.”

The druid continued seriously, “You must also know exactly where you are going to land, and be able to visualise the location clearly in your mind.  For instance, I am sure you can see the repercussions of such an error as landing within a wall, or inside a tree.  It’s very dangerous.”

Merlin blinked.  “Oh.  Yes.”  He rubbed his forehead and glanced back at Camelot.  Arthur was still asking people where he was, his own name was creating an annoying buzz in his head.  He made a decision.  “Thank you, for the warning, but I‘ll try it anyway, I must go.  Iseldir, if you‘ll wait here I’ll bring Arthur back shortly.  Catalin, Senias – I’m pleased to have met you.”

He decided to land in Arthur’s chambers, since his own room was too small and he didn’t want to break anything.  Gaius’s main room was out, he had too many visitors.  And no one was likely to be in Arthur’s chambers, except possibly Arthur.  And _he_ was meant to be in Arthur’s chambers, cleaning his armour, which, Merlin suddenly remembered, he’d left strewn all over the floor in his haste to meet Iseldir.  If he hurried, he’d be able to get that fixed up before Arthur arrived.  All in all, Arthur’s chambers was the logical place to end up.

He walked away from the druids, his eyes flashed gold and he spoke the incantation.  _“Behile mec!  W_ _ídsij onfæste fram hér!”_

Woah, this was nothing like he’d experienced before!  The spell leaped through his body, and he was twisting and spinning, upside down and inside out, until he landed with a loud crash in Arthur’s chambers, smashing heavily onto the ground and skidding on his back across the floor, sending armour skittering everywhere, until he stopped with a hard thud against one of the dining chairs which promptly fell over on top of him.

He groaned and opened his eyes, rubbing the back of his head.  That hurt!  He heard a sound behind him and twisted his head to the source of the noise, pushing the chair off him.  Arthur was leaning against his desk, head tilted to one side, arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows raised in a fair imitation of Gaius.  Beneath one of his boots, he’d trapped a piece of stray armour that had been sent his way when Merlin burst into the room.  A sheet of paper fluttered off his desk and onto the floor.

“Hmm.”  Arthur kicked the piece of armour, a gauntlet, back towards him, and looked at him contemplatively.  “ _Merlin_.  Since you are such a powerful, highly skilled warlock, I’m sure there is a very complicated, magical reason for you to do ... whatever it was, that you just did.  Not having any magic myself, I can never hope to understand why sliding across my floor, and crashing into my chair is so ... necessary, ... but I will accept your superior knowledge of such matters.  I would however, truly like to know how you’d explain yourself if I didn’t already know you had magic.  You just appeared out of thin air.”

Merlin wanted to shut his eyes again, but he didn’t.  He sat up, still rubbing his head and said rather grumpily, “Sometimes Arthur, a little bit of sympathy wouldn’t go astray!  That hurt!”  He scowled at Arthur, like it was his fault, and it probably was, because if Arthur hadn’t been looking for him he wouldn’t have rushed back so quickly.  He might have even walked, instead of trying out teleporting!  He let the prince pull him to his feet.  “And I would hardly have picked your chambers to land in if you didn’t already know about my magic.”

Arthur was trying unsuccessfully to control the twitching at the corner of his mouth.  “If there’s one certainty about you Merlin, it’s that you keep life interesting.  Now, are you really injured?”

Merlin said a bit huffily, “No, I’m alright.  My head and shoulder hurt, but it’s no worse than when you throw things at me.”

Arthur sat him down on a chair, the one that had just fallen on him.  “What were you doing this time, anyway?”

Still offended, he muttered, “I just learned to teleport!”

“I can see you ‘just learned’ something.  You need more practice, whatever it is you’re trying to do.”

Merlin said a bit crossly, “Well, I suppose that was obvious, the landing wasn’t exactly how I expected it to be.”  He rubbed his head again, a distraction was necessary.  “Iseldir told me how to do it.  I came to find you, he’s here.”

Instantly, Arthur was all business, teasing forgotten.  “Where?”

“Not far from where you saw me with Kilgharrah, and he’s bought two other chieftains with him.”  Merlin looked at Arthur seriously, banter put aside.  “Arthur, you must be cautious of all three druids, even Iseldir, for a while at least.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Iseldir has come, because Emrys has called.  But the druids are not yet on your side.  Some may never be, even when the time prophesised is here.  That time is not yet, you are still only Regent, your father may recover and sit on the throne again.  They will never support him.”

“I realise that, Merlin.  But if you advise caution, then why involve them in the first place?”

“Iseldir could be a shortcut to finding Morgana and Morgause, Arthur.  That’s one reason I have contacted him, but there is another.”

Merlin was intent, no trace of playfulness on his face.  He stood up.  “The other reason is because we both need to make ourselves known amongst the druids, now.  Uther’s reign has created hatred and division between those who have magic and those who don’t, and Albion is imploding.  It may take decades for this animosity to recede before there can be peaceful co-existence between the two groups.”

He paused, Arthur was watching him pace back and forth.  “Sire, we _must_ start building relationships and creating trust with the druids now, before the time of the Once and Future King.  It’s vital that they begin to know you now;  as a prince you will be more accessible to them, someone they can meet with and talk to around a campfire.  You’ll be approachable.  We need to meet with them informally, not as a delegation from Camelot.  We must begin to undo the damage exacerbated by your clashes with them when searching for Morgana a year ago.  If they get to know you now, I’m confident you won’t battle for their loyalty as an unknown king.  We need that foundation established before your reign begins.”

Arthur was still watching him, serious and expectant, and Merlin continued.  “And later, when the time comes, I will have to enforce your law and dispense your justice.  I too, must begin to establish trust with them.  Emrys will be their representative, yet my knowledge of the druids, their way of life, and their traditions and beliefs, is very limited.  I must make myself known to them and earn their respect now, so they have something on which to base their confidence in Emrys, later on.”

Arthur nodded and said quietly.  “Yes.  I can see the sense in what you say, Merlin.”  He gave him an inscrutable look.  “I don’t like to say so, but maybe ... this one of those times when you demonstrate a type of .... well, wisdom, and ... some sort of intelligence, or ... good judgement ... perhaps.”

Merlin smiled.  “Nah.”

Arthur punched him lightly.  “I’m right.  And so are you.  So we’ll meet Iseldir now.  Should we visit his camp first, once we start to seek them out and meet the people?”

Merlin rubbed his arm.  “No.  He’s too far away, I can’t go that far away from Camelot until we’ve dealt with Morgana and Morgause.  So we’ll see if Iseldir knows of their whereabouts, and if not then I’ll concentrate on the camps near Camelot first, to look for them and to begin associations with their chieftains, if they are suitable.”

“We’ll go alone, just the two of us?”

“It’s easier for me if I only have to worry about protecting you.  But we could take some of the knights, if you wish, to some of the encampments, but only the ones where I’m confident we won’t encounter any trouble.  And probably only a couple of the knights, not too many anyway as we don’t want the druids to see us as a threat.  I suggest promoting the assumption in Camelot that you are going on hunting trips, yet using the opportunity to visit the druids.  We should not be making it generally known what we’re doing.”

“I can’t get used to the idea of you protecting me, Merlin.  I’m so accustomed to thinking you’re useless with a sword.”

“That won’t change, I am.  But fortunately I have no need of a sword, since I’m a weapon in my own right.”  He grinned in amusement at the look on Arthur’s face.  “Arthur.  One thing I ask of you.  The druids _must not_ know about Kilgharrah.  No one can.  I have already asked Lancelot and Gwaine for their silence and I’m confident I have it.  Gaius will never tell either.  Arthur, Kilgharrah _must_ remain secret, he’s my get-out-of-trouble card.  There’s still a lot about magic I don’t yet know.  Kilgharrah saved me from the serkets when I couldn’t escape Morgause’s magical chains, and I’d say at some point I’ll need his help again.”

 _“What?”_ Arthur’s expression stilled, frozen.

Merlin caught the alarm in his tone, and knew it was a demand for further explanation.  “Before the battle with the skeleton army, I was spying on Morgana and Morgause, in the woods at night.  They caught me, bound me with magical chains, I couldn’t escape.  They left me alone with the serkets in the woods, after they’d gone I called on Kilgharrah, but I’d already been stung by then.”

He shot a sly glance at Arthur.  “I seem to remember coming back to Camelot a couple of days later, still _incredibly_ sore, waking you up in the morning for breakfast and getting yelled at for being away without your permission.  You didn’t believe me when I told you I’d been dying, but I had been.  Their venom is deadly, if Kilgharrah had not saved me from them, and given me an enchantment to stop the poison, well, ... you would have had to find a new servant.”

Arthur wasn’t happy.  “I thought you had enough magic to get out of those situations!”

Merlin shrugged.  “If I hadn’t been trying to ensure my magic remained hidden from both of them, I may have been okay.  And I know how to break the chains too now, although I don’t think Morgause would bother with them again, if she recovers.”

“Merlin ... you should not take such risks.  That’s not acceptable to me.”

“No matter, it’s done now.  There is another thing you should know before we meet Iseldir.  But again, I ask you to never, ever tell anyone, not even Gwen.  Only you and Kilgharrah know of this.”

He waited, Arthur nodded.

“I have an advantage, something that allows me to ascertain without doubt, those magic users who will support our cause, and those who may oppose us.  I can read them, Arthur, they don’t know it, but they can’t lie about their intentions to me.”

“You can read their minds?”

“No, but I can read their magic.  Magic cannot lie to me.  Magic has a scent, a spirit, an essence.  All magic users with reasonably strong power can sense when magic is in use or a strong magical object is nearby, but that tells them nothing, just that magic is there, somewhere.  But I don’t believe there are any, except me, who can translate that magic into a map of that person’s character and beliefs.  Their magic speaks to me, I understand its soul, its life-force, what drives the person behind it.  I can’t explain how I decipher it, but I can.  I don’t doubt my ability.”

“And that’s why I have chosen Iseldir, to begin.  From my limited exposure to him, I believe the spirit of his magic – and hence his ethics, his sense of right and wrong – to be good, to be compatible with what we believe in.  We will begin with the chieftains who I believe will welcome your rule, he‘ll be one, eventually.  We can’t yet travel to his camp but he‘ll come to me, when I ask.  Yet that does not mean we should trust him, or any of them, unconditionally.  But I believe he wouldn’t purposely cause you harm, or damage our cause.  When we meet him, soon, I’ll ask him to perform some magic, as I can sense his intentions better if he’s actually using his power, rather than leaving it lying dormant inside him.  I want to check it again.”

“Alright.”

“And Arthur, how are you finding mind speech?  If it does not bother you too much I would like to use it when we meet the druids, but you should not let on that I am communicating with you in that way.”

“Merlin, as long as you are not _threatening_ to turn me into a _toad_ , then yes, it is fine.”

Merlin wasn’t at all abashed.  “Come on, it was funny!”

“Hmm.  Is there any way I can talk to you, like that?”

Merlin was doubtful.  “I don’t think so, you have no magic.  Anyway all the fun would go out of it for me, if you could insult me in my own head.  I much prefer just being able to speak to you.”

Arthur felt he was being out-manoeuvred again. “Very well.  But Merlin,” he walked over to him, trying to look threatening.  “You’d better watch the insults.  Nobody likes a clever clogs, huh?”

“I think you do.”  Merlin smiled cheekily and stepped backwards hurriedly, “Oh no, I know that face!”  He tried to edge around to the other side of the table, but Arthur was too quick.  “Ow!  Lemme go!”

Arthur didn’t release the headlock, but what came out of his mouth wasn’t exactly what he’d planned.  “Just be careful with your safety with all this stuff, huh?  Don’t be an idiot about it, don’t take risks, and don’t get yourself killed.”

Merlin tried to twist around but Arthur tightened his grip.  “Arthur, _what_?”

“You heard me, Merlin.”  Arthur let him go and gave him a little push, Merlin straightened and rubbed his head, looking at him curiously.  After a moment’s silence, Arthur gave in.  “I mean it.  Now enough of that, I’m beginning to sound like a girl.  We’d better go and see Iseldir, now.”

“Yes, but how?”

“What do you mean?”

“It is widely known amongst the druids that the Once and Future King is not yet aware of the identity of Emrys.  That’s why Iseldir used mind speech in front of you when we collected the Cup of Life, he did not want to give me away.  What do you want to do in this meeting we are about to have, do you want them to continue to assume that is true, or let them know you know?”

Arthur was thoughtful.  “What do you think?”

“I think it’s up to you.  But the seers who live with the druids can read the signs, they will know a new time is dawning, although they will not know exactly when.  The assumption of your ignorance may not hold for much longer.  And it will be easier to visit their encampments if we do not have to hide your knowledge from them.  If they can see you accept my magic, they will be more open with you.”

“Fair enough.  Then I say we let them know I know your secret.  We’re a team, Merlin, let it be recognised where it can.”

“Thank you.”  Merlin suddenly grinned at him, dimples showing.

Arthur smiled back.  Then his eyes narrowed.  “Want to have a bit of fun, with that revelation, Merlin?  After all, Iseldir didn’t think that much of me last time we met.”

“You did threaten a child Arthur, that wasn’t one of your finer moments.  What are you planning?”

“Take me down to see him now, in your time.  He’ll have no doubts about what I know about you after that.”

Merlin was a bit sheepish.  “I did that already, when I went down before.  But are you really sure it didn’t make you feel ill, afterwards?”

“No.  But what of them, how were they?”

“No headache Arthur, their magic protects them well enough.”

“Then let’s do it.”  Arthur picked up his sword and Merlin rolled his eyes.

“We’re not taking weapons, Arthur.  It’s just not necessary.”

“I’d prefer to.”

“Well I’m not taking you in my time then!  A sword is a waste of time if you’re facing a druid with magic.  And they’re not here to kill you!  Not to mention, if you have trouble adapting to the time change – and you might, you’ve only done it once – then I really don’t need you getting impaled by your own sword, or accidentally stabbing me with it!  It might happen, Arthur!”

Arthur sighed, but he did place his sword back down on the table.  “There’s just no point arguing with you sometimes, when you get yourself all worked up, is there?  Very well, then.”

Somewhat mollified at the concession, Merlin decided to ignore the subtle insult.  He tucked his arm under Arthur’s.  “Ready?”  Arthur nodded, Merlin’s eyes glowed and they were back in that space where nothing looked quite right.

**************************************

 _Translations:_

 _“Behile mec!_   
_Nú forþweg fram hér!”_   
  
_HIDE ME!  NOW AWAY FROM HERE!_

 _“Behile mec!  W_   
_ídsij onfæste fram hér!”_   
  
_HIDE ME!  TRAVEL FAST FROM HERE!_


	10. Chapter 10

Once again, the druids did not seem to sense anything as Merlin and Arthur walked through the dense undergrowth towards them, shrouded secretly within Merlin’s time.

The men were well camouflaged, it took a moment for Arthur to find them.  He saw Iseldir first, he was wearing a faded green druid robe that blended into the forest behind him.  He was standing just out from the tree line, at the edge of the field they’d been in a few nights ago with Kilgharrah.  He was eying the flowers dotted throughout the clearing, as they watched, he hunkered down and examined one, the expression on his face perplexed.  It was the wrong season for daffodils to be flowering.

Merlin pointed out Catalin and Senias to Arthur.  The other two druids were dressed in russet robes and were standing beneath the shadows of a large tree.  They were watchful, and far less relaxed than Iseldir. 

“I told Iseldir that we’d speak only with him for now.”  Merlin glanced across at Catalin and Senias.  “So we should - .... oh.  Oh no.”  Merlin bit his lip nervously and shot a sideways glance Arthur’s way.  “Um ... oops?”

“ _Merlin?_   What is it now?”

“Oh.  Just something I may have possibly, slightly, forgotten.”

“Not again!”

“You need to be uh, kingly, and regal, when you appear to Iseldir, Arthur.”

“I’m a prince Merlin, I think I’ll be able to manage it.”

“No!  It’s just that ... well, the last time you came out of my time you sort-of-almost-nearly ... uh, fainted.”

Arthur gave him a look.  “Fainted?  Like a girl?”

Merlin cringed.  “Well, not really like a girl.  Like a prince!  Not girly at all.  Nothing girly about it.  It probably wasn’t even a faint!  Just ... a momentary uh, ... disorientation, very temporary cerebral confusion, that was all!  Perfectly acceptable.  Normal even!  Anyone would do it, in the same situation.  I’m sure you’ll be fine, this time!  You won’t even fall over, I know it!  You’ll be kingly, and regal, definitely.”

“Merlin?”  Arthur was very polite, and the smile showed off his teeth.  “You have verbal diarrhoea, again.”

Merlin slanted him a sideways glance.  “You know, I like it better when you call it prattle.”

Arthur sighed, resigned.  “And you didn’t think to mention this _fainting_ , before, to me, the last time I tried this?”

“Well, I was was more concerned about brain damage!”  Merlin tried not to sound petulant.

Arthur was incredulous.  “That’s not what you said!  You said I might get a slight headache, something like a _minor hangover_!”

Merlin backtracked hurriedly.  “Minor brain damage then!  Very minor.  Probably none, actually.  And you didn’t!  You still seem perfectly normal to me!  You’re fine.  And I wasn’t really in the mood to discuss it further, last time.”

“You do have more moods than a girl, Merlin.”

“Uh.”  Merlin grimaced, and gave up.  “Yes.  Well.”  He looked sideways at Arthur.  “Are you ready then, to appear?”

Arthur smiled again, very nicely.  “Are you going to catch me, if I faint?”

“I’ll prop you up against a tree, and hold onto you, like this.”  Carefully, making sure he did not lose contact with Arthur, he slung one of the prince’s arms over his shoulder.  Arthur muttered something unfathomable, Merlin pretended not to hear.

“One more thing.”  Merlin glanced in the direction of the other two druids, his eyes flashed gold and he whispered, _“Iseldir, Artha, Merlo, bedydre úree drohtoþ, nan ac ús tó ofásce.”_

“What was that?  I don’t think he can see us.”

“He can’t yet.  I was concealing the conversation we’ll have with Iseldir, from Catalin and Senias.”  Arthur nodded, and Merlin said, “Alright, are you ready?  Then now.”  His eyes flashed again, the world spun crazily and Arthur found himself pressed back hard against the trunk of a large tree.  Merlin had pushed his back up against Arthur’s chest, the edge of his shoulder was jabbing into Arthur’s neck.  It wasn’t very comfortable.  Arthur disentangled himself, removing his arm from Merlin and pushing him away.  He was pleased to find he didn’t seem to have any trouble standing up, and shook his head to clear it.

He looked over at Iseldir.  The druid was almost close enough to touch, he’d twisted around when they appeared, the remnants of surprise fading from his face.  Iseldir looked from Merlin to Arthur, a slight smile creeping across his lips.

“Emrys, Prince Arthur.”  He directed his next words to Merlin.  “It appears your prince has made some discoveries since we last met.”

Merlin just nodded.  “Walk this way.”  He turned away from Catalin and Senias, and Iseldir and Arthur followed him until Merlin was satisfied they were far enough away.  It wasn’t really necessary, given that he’d cast an enchantment to prevent them hearing him, but he didn’t want Senias to be able to read their facial expressions.

Merlin took the lead.  “I thank you again, Iseldir for answering my call.”

“We _are_ on the verge of a new time, Emrys, if your prince knows and accepts your magic.”  The druid gave Arthur a speculative look.

“A new time is dawning, Iseldir.  But it has not yet arrived.  Before we speak any further, I will ask something of you.”  Merlin held out his hand towards the druid, palm up.  “Can I trust you?  Will you always be true, to me?”

“Emrys, you know the answer. But as you have asked me directly, then I will answer as such:  yes, you can trust me, and I will always be true.”

Merlin stared at him for a long moment, and nodded towards his open palm.  “Conjure a flame.”

Iseldir looked at him inquiringly, but when Merlin did not offer any explanation the druid pushed back the hood of his robe.  His hair, once a startling white blonde colour, was now flecked with grey.  His eyes flashed gold, and a flame appeared on Merlin’s upturned hand.

Arthur was startled, but Merlin did not give any sign of discomfort.  Instead he bought it closer to him, opening his mouth slightly, breathing slowly, and stared at it for a long moment.  Then he dropped his hand, the flame disappeared, he glanced the prince’s way.

 _“Yes!”_  Merlin’s voice was a triumphant roar in Arthur’s mind, and he had to make a concerted effort not to react to the mind speech.  Behind the voice there was a glimpse of the enormous power under Merlin’s command, and though he had no fear of him it still sent shivers down Arthur’s spine.  It was moments like these that it really hit home, that Merlin _was_ Emrys.  His friend, the most unassuming person he knew, was the most powerful warlock in all of Albion.  Merlin was speaking again, and Arthur hurried to catch up.  _“I’m sorry, that was too loud, I didn’t mean to startle you.  But he’s alright, Arthur, I knew it!  One day soon you will be able to call this druid, your friend.”_

None of Merlin’s thoughts were showing on his face, and when he spoke aloud his voice was measured and precise.  “Iseldir, we’re searching for Morgause, and her sister Morgana Pendragon.  What can you tell me of their whereabouts?”

Iseldir nodded, as if unsurprised.  “Morgause rode with Cenred’s army against Camelot?”

Arthur spoke up.  “Yes.  She used the Cup of Life against us to enchant Cenred’s men.  We believe her to be injured, Morgana took her out of Camelot in the aftermath of the battle.  They both have ties amongst the druids.  Do you know where they are?”

Iseldir’s gaze shifted between Merlin and Arthur.  “I will answer you, Arthur Pendragon, but only because this is also Emrys’s request.  When you have proven yourself to be worthy of the mantle of the Once and Future King, then my clan will pledge allegiance to you.  But that time is not yet, my kin are still hunted and feared.  Yet for Emrys’s sake, I will give you the answers you seek.”

 _“Told you so.”_   Merlin’s voice sounded in Arthur’s mind.  _“Don’t worry Arthur.  He’ll come round.  You’re not that bad, most of the time ... or at least now and then, anyway.”_

Arthur remembered just in time not to clobber him over the head, he wasn’t supposed to be reacting to the mind speech.

Iseldir continued.  “Emrys.  If Morgause is injured, then she will be in need of a healer.  There are several druid camps within a few days travel of Camelot.  Nathaniel’s camp could be a possibility.  He would be closest to Camelot, and has been there for several months now.  The camp is well hidden.”

“Is that the one due north, about two days travel from here?  I’ve sensed their magic several times, but it’s not strong.”

“Yes, that would be it.  They’re one of the weaker clans, but their healing magic is good.  Better than yours, I hear.”

“Correct.  I don’t seem to have much skill in healing magic, Gaius doesn’t have any texts on it that seem compatible with my magic.  I’ve tried it out a few times on Arthur but it hasn’t worked well.”

Arthur frowned and remembered he’d mentioned something about that to the dragon.  “You have?  When?  How could I not notice?”

Merlin waved the question away, and said in mind speech.  _“You are knocked unconscious so often I really do worry about the possibly of brain damage.  Not that it would make a lot of difference.  Anyway, even when you’re awake there’s a lot you still don’t see.”_   Aloud he said, “Later, Arthur.  Iseldir, is there any way you could find out if they were at Nathaniel’s camp without arising suspicion?”

Arthur accidentally stepped on Merlin’s foot, hard, and wished he could retort.  Other than a slight wince, Merlin didn’t react.  Arthur’s eyes narrowed, he wondered how much practice Merlin had with this inscrutable face he was displaying, he was much better at it than Arthur would have expected.

Iseldir answered the question.  “Yes.  Having come thus far I can call in on my way back to my own camp.”

“Will you do that, Iseldir?  But they can’t know we search for them.  I will attend if they’re there.”

Arthur draped an arm casually around Merlin’s shoulder, and then yanked him abruptly off balance.  Merlin stumbled and fell against him, smacking his face against Arthur’s chest.  Arthur said mildly, “And so will I.  Merlin, you’re not facing them without me.”

They traded stares, Arthur’s arm tightened ominously, and Merlin said, dutifully, “As you wish, sire.”  Arthur gave him a pointed look, not at all persuaded by this uncharacteristic display of submissiveness, and he was ready to take it further when he suddenly remembered Iseldir.

The druid was watching them both, a look of realisation slowly dawning across his face.  He said with quiet intensity to Arthur, “Emrys is your friend, is he not, Arthur Pendragon?”

Arthur nodded and answered simply.  “Of course.  Yes.”

The druid looked from one to the other.  “Then, Arthur Pendragon, you have my allegiance now.”  He bent his head to the prince.  “Whatever either of you ask of me, it will be done.”

“Really?”  Merlin was surprised at this development.  He squirmed, the partial headlock was uncomfortable, and Arthur let him go.  “It’s as simple as that?”

“Yes, Emrys.  It is.  I’ll take my leave of you now.  I’d like to reach Nathaniel’s camp as soon as I can.”

“Wait.”  Merlin spoke, then hesitated.  He glanced at Arthur.  “Where’s Mordred?” 

Iseldir was curious.  “I don’t know.  He left my camp more than a year ago.  I don’t believe he’s within Camelot’s borders at present.”

Merlin was satisfied with the answer.  There was no way he was letting Arthur anywhere near the boy.  He nodded and Arthur stretched his hand out.  “Thank you, Iseldir.  I won’t forget this.”

They shook, and Iseldir turned to Merlin and dipped his head.  “My Lord.”

“Ahh.”  Merlin was embarrassed, he avoided Arthur’s gaze and rubbed the side of his nose.  Arthur was amused to see a stripe of colour spreading across his cheekbones.  “Please don’t call me that.  And don’t suggest anyone else call me that.”

“As you wish, Emrys.”

Merlin turned away, and Arthur followed.  They nodded a farewell to Catalin and Senias in the distance, but did not approach them.  As they reached the tree line, Merlin ducked his head and mumbled, _“Iseldir, Artha, Merlo, drohtoþ ende.”_

Arthur clapped him on the back and Merlin stumbled against a tree root.  “That went well, don’t you think?” __

Merlin agreed.  “Yeah.  Better than I’d hoped.  It’d be good if they’re all that easy.”

“Yes, although he only decided he liked me, because he thinks I don’t think you’re _always_ a complete idiot.  Little does he know.”

Merlin skipped out of the way and stepped over a fallen branch.  “It’s not that.  It’s that he doesn’t realise you’re such a prat.  I should mention that to him next time.”

Arthur let it drop.  “Why did you ask him about the druid boy we rescued, Mordred?”

Merlin looked away.  “No reason.”  His voice was short, but that only provoked Arthur’s curiosity.

“Merlin, what is it you’re not telling me?”

Merlin’s face blanked, Arthur stopped walking and Merlin pushed past him.  “All you need to know is that he’s dangerous.  That’s all.”  His tone was final.

Arthur was beginning to recognise that voice, and that look, a new Merlin, it said any argument right now was futile.  He’d need to rethink his strategies later if he wanted to pursue it.  Arthur changed the subject.  “Do you think Iseldir’ll find Morgana and Morgause?”

“Mmm, probably soon too.  If Morgause wasn’t injured and didn’t want to be found, then he mightn’t.  But Morgana will be fairly easy to track.”

“She wasn’t that time we were searching for her a year ago.”

“Maybe not for you, but Iseldir will find her easily enough, if she’s with a druid camp somewhere.”  He paused.  “Arthur, what are you going to do, when we find her?”

Arthur sighed.  “I don’t know.  I know she’s betrayed me, you, my father, Camelot, but I don’t know.  I worry that I may not be able to protect Gwen if she strikes against her.  But still I don’t know.”

Merlin was silent.  Arthur nudged him.  “What do you think?”  They’d reached the road.  Merlin stopped at the edge and stared off into the distance, at Camelot, his home.  A home should be a safe haven for all who lived there.  But it wouldn’t be for anyone, when she came back.  His boot scuffed at the dirt, and he bit his lip.  “Merlin?”

Merlin turned around to face him.  He ran a hand over his face, then dropped his arms to his sides, his palms hanging loosely.  He nearly spoke then hesitated, he almost wanted to brush the question off, but then his mouth firmed and he looked at Arthur directly.  He said deliberately, “Arthur.  I poisoned her once before, long ago, when she was the vessel for the sleeping enchantment that gripped Camelot.  She had to die for it to break, I couldn’t think of any other way to stop Morgause.”  He stepped closer to Arthur, the prince’s face was unreadable.  “I meant to kill her, even though she hadn’t completely turned away from us then, she trusted me, yet I meant to end her life.  Morgause took her then to save her.  What do you think of me, Arthur, knowing that?”

Arthur didn’t answer.

Merlin held his gaze, watchful.  “And yet, those months ago, when she fell down the stairs, she should have died, but I couldn’t let it happen.  I commanded Kilgharrah, I made him give me a spell to save her.  But I didn’t save her for myself, I saved her for you, for Gwen, for your father.  I couldn’t bear to see your grief.  And I knew, even then, she was lost to us, she was Morgause’s already.  I knew that, because her magic had changed, its spirit had hardened to the hate it is still today.  But still I hoped I could be wrong.  I wanted to be wrong.  But I wasn’t.”

Arthur’s eyes flickered, Merlin could not interpret him.

Merlin was very still.  He made his arms stay by his side, his posture intentionally open.  But he was tense, the darkness was rising inside him, and sometimes he had to let it.  His fingers twitched.  “And you ask, what do I think?  I will tell you what I will do.  If she threatens you, Gwen, Gaius, Camelot, anyone, then I will do what I must.  If she leaves me with no other option, if I can think of no other way, then I’ll sacrifice her to protect you all.”  He said bluntly, “I’ll take her life, Arthur, if there’s no other way.  That’s what I will do.  It’s what I always do, when there’s no other way.”

Arthur was silent.

Merlin’s mouth compressed, he turned on his heel and began the walk back up the road.  After a moment he heard Arthur behind him.

“Merlin!”

He didn’t stop, didn’t look back, and instead quickened his pace.  At times he wanted to yell and scream, to rail against the unfairness of his destiny.  He didn’t want to kill.  He didn’t want to kill Morgana.  But sometimes he had to be the monster, he would kill, if there was no other way.  What other way could there be now, for her?  His hands clenched to fists by his side.  His eyes stung.  Arthur was catching up to him, he could hear his boots scuffing the road. 

A hand on his arm, trying to turn him around.  “Merlin?”

He didn’t want to talk with Arthur.  He didn’t even look to see if anyone else was nearby, watching, he didn’t care.  His eyes flared, he retreated to the safety of his own time, and Arthur was left cursing his disappearance.  Merlin ran unseen, back up to Camelot, through the gates, to the refuge of his own room.  Gaius wasn’t there.  Merlin stumbled up the steps to his bedroom and shut the door behind him.  He released his magic, returning, and crumpled in a messy tangle of limbs face down on the bed.  He shut his eyes and buried his head in the pillow.  He would shed no tears, not for himself nor for Morgana.

**************************************

He hadn’t expected the visitor, at least not yet, not straightaway.  He felt the edge of his bed dip as Arthur sat down on the end.  It was too soon, he didn’t want this, and it was unexpected because Arthur knew him well enough to know that he should have stayed away.

“That’s hardly fair to use your magic to disappear like that.”

Merlin didn’t move.  His voice was dull.  “Leave me alone.”

“Why?”

Merlin felt a surge of irritation.  His fingers curled back into fists.  “Why do you think?  Just leave, Arthur.”

“No.  I won’t.”

The annoyance increased.  Merlin turned over and sat up, backing away from the prince and edging up to the head of the bed to lean against the wall.  Merlin crossed his arms, his tone dismissive.  “Haven’t you got something kingly you need to get on with?  Meetings?  Important decisions to make?  Training your men?  Visiting your father?  _Something?_ ”

Arthur looked at him directly and leaned towards him, both his hands on the bed, palms flat, fingers spread out.  “I know what you’re doing, Merlin.  You’re trying to get a reaction out of me.  You want me to be angry at you because of Morgana, you want me to push you away, so you can justify not putting your trust in me.  But I won’t do that.  I won’t let you.  You ran away from me.”  He said flatly, his voice cool, “Don’t you ever do that again.  That’s an order.”

Merlin bit his lip and his gaze skittered away.  He couldn’t stand Arthur watching him, examining every emotion crossing his face.  It made him feel too vulnerable and he didn’t like the feeling at all.  He twisted around and slid his legs off the bed, sitting on the edge, his back to Arthur.  Elbows resting on his knees, he put his head in his hands and said impassively, “I am asking you:  please leave.”

Arthur sighed, the bed moved as he stood up, but he didn’t leave.  He walked around the end of the bed and sat down beside Merlin, putting an arm across the younger man’s back.  He pulled him closer in a hug, it was getting easier every time he did it, even if this time Merlin was tense with rejection, his posture unreceptive.  “You’re as prickly as a bramble patch at times, Merlin.”

Merlin’s tension increased, Arthur registered it but ignored the unspoken rebuff.  “Merlin.  It’s okay.  I understand, Merlin.  I do.  I don’t like it, but I agree with you.”

Merlin looked up.  “What?”

“I agree with you.  She’s our enemy now.  For the sake of Camelot, to protect its citizens, if she won’t stop, then she has to die.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“I don’t want to mean it.  She’s always been like a sister to me, even before I knew that’s who she really was.  But I understand.  My responsibility is to those who serve me, to the citizens of Camelot.  And that means keeping them safe no matter what.”

There was a long silence, then Merlin whispered, “I don’t want to do it.”

Arthur said, “I know.  I will, if we have to.”  But in truth, he didn’t know if he could.  He swallowed, “She’s my responsibility.  She can’t continue as a danger to us all.”

Merlin said quietly, “No, I can’t let you kill her, Arthur.  I know you, you still have hope for her, however unrealistic it may be.  She’s your sister.  It’ll damage you to act in such a way, and I won’t let you do it.  She’s a magical threat, it will be me.  That’s how it has to be.”

He looked up, there were tears in his eyes.  “But Arthur, taking a life must always be the last resort.  And magic must always be used for good.  How can killing Morgana be good?  Morgana’s only ever known that if she showed her true self to those she loved, she’d be faced with rejection, hate and fear, maybe death.  Never acceptance.  Maybe, if she’d known that you’d accept my magic, she might have told you.  But she didn’t, she was too scared, I know, she knew I was aware of her magic, and she knew I kept it from you too.”

Arthur said slowly, “I don’t know, what I would have done, if I’d found out about her.  I like to think I would have still cared for her, but I don’t know.”

“Arthur, I wondered once, if you might, because you helped us with the druid boy.  But keeping such a secret from your father would have been damaging for all three of you.  Morgana was always isolated from those she cared for.  No wonder she took the love and friendship Morgause offered her, what other option did she have?”

“Merlin, you never turned away from what’s right.”

“No, but I’m stronger than her, Arthur.  And I was never alone.  I’ve had magic since the day I was born, I’ve lived with it all my life, I had a mother who knew about it and loved me regardless, I had Will.  In Camelot, I had Gaius, I couldn’t have survived here if it wasn’t for him.  When I struggled with what I am, I always had people who knew what I was yet still cared for me, I always knew that they’d never turn their backs on me.  And I had hope, though sometimes not much, that maybe, when you found out about me, that you may, eventually, someday ... accept me and my magic too.  But Morgana was always alone, always afraid, until she found Morgause.  I was the one person who could have helped her, and I didn’t.”

Arthur shook his head, but Merlin held up his hand.  “Stop.  Please.  I’m so sorry, Arthur.  I tried, I really did.  I wanted to save her.  I tried to help her, to turn her away from the darkness.  But I couldn’t.  And I’m sorry.”  His eyes were bright, Arthur knew his were too.

Merlin dropped his head down, he leant towards Arthur, and Arthur’s arm tightened around his shoulders again.  They sat, in silence, not speaking any further as they mourned what had been and what must be: Morgana.

It was a long time later, when two things happened simultaneously.  The outer door opened, Gaius was back.  As Arthur met the old man’s eyes through the open doorway Merlin let out a soft gasp.  Arthur turned back to him, Merlin’s head fell back, and he swayed slightly, his eyes focused inward, elsewhere.  A presence had passed through his wards.  He stood up.

“Morgana’s here.”

*********************

 _TRANSLATIONS:_

 _“Iseldir, Artha, Merlo, bedydre úree drohtoþ, nan ac ús tó ofásce.”  ISELDIR, ARTHUR, MERLIN, CONCEAL OUR CONVERSATION, NONE BUT US TO HEAR_

 _“Iseldir, Artha, Merlo, drohtoþ ende.”_ _ISELDIR, ARTHUR, MERLIN, CONVERSATION COMPLETE_


	11. Chapter 11

They ran.

Merlin ran to intercept her.  He knew where she was as she passed the wards he’d spread throughout the castle.  Morgana wasn’t hurrying at all, she’d entered through the catacombs beneath the east wing of the castle which meant she’d have to come up at the entrance to the dungeons, he hurried to wait for her there.

Arthur ran, and Gaius hurried, to warn the others.  Merlin had told them to go straight to the throne room as soon as they could.  Knowing Morgana, he was sure she’d want their confrontation to be there.  Somewhere quiet and private wouldn’t suit her theatrics and lust for revenge, she’d want to be back at the seat of power.

Merlin waited for her now, hidden in an alcove above the stairs to the dungeon.  He could sense her presence every time she passed one of his wards, she was almost here.  Then he saw her, as beautiful as she’d ever been, but cold, and alone.  She was dressed in dark fitted trousers and a shirt of light armour, and her hair was tied up in a single plait down her back.  He whispered a spell so she wouldn’t sense his presence and followed after her.  His eyes flashed again as he heard voices approaching from other corridors, he sent them away with a spell of repulsion, he didn’t want her to harm anyone simply because they crossed her path.

He followed.  They reached the throne room without encountering anyone.  He was directly behind her, he could almost reach out and touch her, if he wished.  He didn’t, he edged back around the corner, dropping the spell of concealment.

He sensed her magic as she commanded the doors to the throne room to open.  She entered, her anger simmering.  He waited a moment then trailed in, in her wake.

Arthur was there, waiting.  Despite the seriousness of the situation Merlin’s mouth twitched, the prince was sitting on the king’s throne, a chair he’d refused to use during his time as Regent.  Merlin’s eyes flicked around the room, Leon, Gwen and Gaius were not far from Arthur, near the throne, but the other knights were missing.  Merlin remembered mind speech and reached out to them, he was annoyed with himself for not thinking of it earlier.

But his friends were not Morgana’s only audience.  In the room were several servants and four guards, all of whom knew him by sight.  Two of the Lords stood off to the side with Geoffrey of Monmouth, the three of them clearly shocked by Morgana’s appearance.  Half a dozen knights, not ones he knew well at all, were watching Morgana with barely concealed hostility, and several had their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.

Merlin cast a fleeting look around the room and bit his lip, bothered by the audience, wishing Arthur had ordered the room cleared.  It was always difficult performing magic in such a crowded room, the risk of someone noticing something they shouldn’t was great.

Merlin circled around the edge of the room, moving closer to Arthur, and inched behind a pillar near the front of the room.  But no, that wasn’t going to work, the angle was wrong, the knights on the other side of the room would see his eyes.  He shifted back and forth on his feet uneasily, clenching his hands, and noticed Arthur glance his way. 

Morgana reached the throne and stopped.  “Greetings, brother.”  Her tone was icy.

The door to the throne room banged open, they all turned at the sound, and Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan and Percival burst in.  Merlin had never been so pleased to see them.  Swiftly he moved away from the pillar to the centre of the room and using mind speech as they came closer, he said to them all, _“Quick, do as I say, now.  I can’t expose my magic here, you’ve got to surround me on each side so no one will see my eyes.  Now.”_

They approached the throne and Morgana, who had a familiar smirk on her face. 

Arthur had not responded to her.  Merlin saw her smile, the expression malicious, cold and hard.  “Are you King now, my brother?  I hadn’t heard.  I would be so disappointed if our father was already dead, I wanted the honour of killing him myself.” 

Arthur stood up, and while her attention was totally focused on Arthur, and the knights were shielding him from her view, Merlin began a spell, slow and subtle, designed to bind her magic to his will.  He didn’t know how long it would last, but it would remove the threat she posed and give him enough time to think of something else to do.

He ducked his head, cupping one hand over the side of his face to block his eyes from anyone glancing his way from the side.  Arthur would still see, so would Leon, Gwen and Gaius, but that wouldn’t matter. He didn’t want Morgana to notice so he’d need to do it now, while she was distracted.  The knights moved closer to him. 

He whispered the ancient words as quietly as he could.  “ _Drýlác innan Morgána, úre holdræ sy tó mec!  Morgána unácnycendlice áræce.  Ic æbebod ðu to néadhæs heleþ mec.”_ He’d never tried such a spell before, but he knew what made Morgause’s chains so binding and he thought he could adapt a spell based on that enchantment, but without visible chains.  Of course, if it went wrong ... well, he just hoped there’d be no _visible_ chains to give anything away. __

He felt her magic creep across to him, invisible threads linking them together.  Yet, he was surprised at how easy it had been.  The enchantment worked so much better than he’d thought.  There was barely any resistance, and it puzzled him, even though her magic was not strong compared to his, it still should have protested.  He hadn’t even said the entire spell, he’d known after the first part its allegiance was no longer hers, but his.  There was something odd about that ... he’d think about it later when he had more time.

It was done, and he visibly relaxed.  Arthur noticed.  Merlin moved away from the knights, and closer to Arthur, standing almost between the two but off to the side.  Morgana may not be able to use her magic now, but he was not going to leave Arthur unprotected.  She flicked Merlin a disparaging glance, her eyes cool.

Arthur’s voice was as cold as hers.  “You won’t be killing anyone today, Morgana.”

Morgana was pleased with the provocation.  “And how do you think to stop me?  Look at me, brother!”  She smiled, feral and twisted.  “I have magic, you see!  You can’t do anything to me!”

Arthur’s face was unreadable.  “I see.”  His next words were aimed to antagonise.  “Tell me, how is Morgause?”

Morgana’s expression hardened.  She glared at Merlin.  “She remains unconscious, and for that, your servant will pay.  Won’t you, Merlin?  I know he did something to her.  Not to mention what he did to me!  You can watch him die first, Arthur.  Then you can choose between your queen and our dear father.  Which one will it be, that you’ll choose to save for another day?  I’m generous today, I’ll take only two lives, one life for injuring Morgause, one life for angering me.  The rest I’ll spare, for now.”

Her hate was palatable, it twisted in the air like a weapon and Merlin felt the tug of her magic trying to break free.  Merlin had enough, he wanted her contained before the situation escalated, he took an involuntary step towards her but then stopped himself, there were too many people watching them.  But she’d noticed his movement, and it drove her fury to new heights.

“Always so brave, yet so stupid, Merlin.  Any last words?”  She was preparing to use her magic on him but it was laughably easy to contain it, and she had no idea.  He smothered it like the flame of a candle.  She was too reckless, coming here.

But he couldn’t do anything else.  Not in front of all these eyes.  He took a step backwards dropped his head submissively, and said in mind speech to Arthur, _“Arthur.  Please order her to be taken to the dungeons.  I need to deal with her without an audience.”_

He felt her tug at her magic again, harder, sharper.  It wasn’t working, finally she realised it, and out of the corner of his eyes he saw the confusion and anger dawning on her face.  “Someone is binding my magic!  You’re harbouring a sorcerer, brother!”

Arthur’s expression didn’t change.  “You’re delusional, Morgana.”  He turned to his knights.  “Take her to the dungeons.”

She screamed and drew a dagger from her belt, but Percival and Gwaine were on her in an instant, and it clattered to the floor before she could unsheathe it.  She struggled furiously, but gripping an arm each they began to drag her past the shocked faces in the room towards the door.  Leon and Elyan followed.

Merlin backed away from it all, blending into the general confusion and taking a circuitous route around the edge of the room to slip out the door.  He hurried to catch up, he wasn’t sure how easy it would be to keep hold of her magic if she was out of his sight.  He could still feel it, off in a small corner inside him, now snapping and snarling to be released as she tried again and again to command it, yet her magic had an overtone of blind obedience to him that he found completely puzzling.

He rounded a corner and caught up with them and heard her rage.  “Who is doing this to me!”  She struggled in the knights’ grasp, her eyes wild.  “None of you could have any magic, I would have sensed it, Morgause would have told me!”

The corridor was deserted, but he made doubly sure of it before he made his move, pushing past Percival to stop in front of them.  He put both his hands around her upper arms and she jerked back at his touch, her eyes flaring a warning.  His voice was deceptively mild.  “You’re wrong, Morgana.”  He didn’t look at the knights, his concentration was on the woman in front of him.  He felt the tension in her arms, her skin was warm beneath his hands through the light chainmail she wore.  “I’ll take it from here.  Let her go.”

He saw the disbelief flash on her face.  “You!  It can’t be!”

He smiled, but there was no amusement in it, the truth was in his eyes, and they weren’t friendly.  “Didn’t I just say you were wrong?  And you are wrong Morgana, so wrong, about everything.”  The knights hadn’t moved, he knew they thought they needed to protect him, but still he snapped at them, “Let her go, now.”  Percival and Gwaine dropped their hold on her, but Merlin could tell their stance meant they were still ready to intervene.

He tugged her forward, into a parody of an embrace, one of his arms slipping around her waist and resting against the cold metal of her belt, the other arm over her shoulders.  She was smaller than he remembered, but he knew there was an iron core inside her.  He relaxed his hold on his magic and let her sense it, but he kept it muted and understated as it swirled around them both.  Her breathing hitched, and involuntarily, she took a step closer to him, they touched from chest to hip.

She looked up at him, her eyes liquid dark, then licked her lips.

Merlin’s head jerked back, stunned, his nostrils flared, he felt a jolt of utter shock spike through him at her gesture, and he nearly dropped his hold on her.  By the look on her face, she was as horrified as him by what she’d betrayed.

He almost smiled then, but he didn’t, it wasn’t the time for that and he wasn’t amused; a smile would have just been a weapon to taunt her with.  And he had a better weapon to use right now.  He drew back slightly, and held her just apart from him, she didn’t try to fight him like she had the knights, her face a picture of appalled disbelief.  His voice was distant. “Ready, Morgana?”

She didn’t understand, but he didn’t give her any more time to think, his eyes flashed and Morgana’s world went crazy as he pulled her into his time.  He didn’t try to cushion it for her, he released it all unrestrained, past, present and future, into now, her punishment.

He knew the ground was like soup to her, and the walls taunted her with their merciless caress.  He let them.  The very air roared, it was hot and cold, night and day, all at once and not at all.  He’d contained her magic, and he moved with speed in his own time, keeping his hold on her but twisting her around so he was pushing her stumbling form in front of him.  They moved away from the knights who could no longer see them anyway, down the corridor again.  He knew what he had to do.

He felt her horror and her fear, and exploited it, if she feared him enough then she may obey; he might be able to let her live.  He didn’t say a word to her as he pushed her down the corridor, forcing her back down into the bowels of the castle, past the dungeons, following the way she’d come in.

She stumbled constantly, and eventually he was forced to pick her up, reducing her weight with his magic so she was no heavier than an infant.  Beyond terror, she let out a barely audible whimper of fear, huddled against his chest, eyes squeezed shut, shaking.  He gritted his teeth and increased his speed as they moved through the catacombs.  It was dark, but he didn’t conjure a light, he increased his senses so his feet knew where to tread, and his body knew where to duck and weave around rocky outcrops in the dim passages.

Then there was sunlight ahead, they’d reached the outer walls of the castle.  Without breaking his stride he moved into the undergrowth in the surrounding forest.  The branches parted out of his way, he dodged between the green blurs of trees.  Morgana clutched at him in her desperation, one arm around his neck and the other fisted over the material of his shirt, the tips of her fingers fluttering against the skin of his neck.

They were hidden.  He stopped, and waited for her to notice.  Despite the exertion he was breathing slowly, his heart rate steady.  He looked down at her, at the naked distress on her face and the trembling of her fingers as they shuddered and clenched around the fabric of his shirt.  After a long time she opened her eyes, they were glazed in fear.  He spoke.  “I’m putting you down.”  He did, but she couldn’t stand.  He held onto her arm and hunkered down beside her, keeping her sitting upright.  He didn’t wait, his eyes glowed fierce and gold and he released his time faster than he’d done before, and watched her recoil and quiver at the backlash.  He reminded himself it was for her own good.

He held her upright, she was gasping, as he watched, her tears began.  He hardened his heart.

“Don’t bother, Morgana.  I’m warning you.  You must turn away from this path of destruction.”  She didn’t look at him, he shook her, but he wasn’t cruel.  She risked a glance his way but couldn’t hold his gaze, her eyes skittered to the ground, tears escaping again.  “I’m not stupid enough to think you’ll give up on your quest for revenge, not yet.  So listen.  This is your only warning.  Arthur and Camelot are under my protection.  You will never enter the grounds of Camelot again.  If you endanger Arthur’s life again, I will kill you, understand?”

He waited, when she didn’t answer, he shook her again, she flinched and choked out, “Yes!”

“Good.  If you threaten Gwen, Gaius, any of the knights, or the citizens of Camelot, I will kill you.  Understand?”  He released the restraint he had on her magic and let her have it back, but she was too afraid to notice.

She answered him, she gasped, “Yes!”

“And if Morgause recovers, tell her it wasn’t Gaius who harmed her.  It was me.”  When she looked at him in shock, he smiled, his eyes hard.  “Yes, Morgana, it was me.  Don’t ever think to pit your magic against mine.  You’re a newborn.  I’ll crush you.”

He watched the words sink in.  But he wasn’t finished yet.  He let his anger show and watched her cringe.  “Did your time with the druids long ago teach you nothing?  You are foolish, Morgana, so very, very stupid.  Arthur is the Once and Future King.  Surely you have heard of the prophecies.  Without him, there will be no magic returning to this land.  You harm your own cause by threatening him.  Verify this with the druids.  Tell it to your sister.”

His voice was cold, a match for her earlier ice.  “And tell her I grow weary of her attempts on Camelot.  I won’t warn her off, that task is yours.  Should she recover and strike again, I will act against her, and you will not like what my action will be.  I do not have to hide from Arthur now, you see.  It is so much easier to perform magic without worrying about discovery.  A whole new world of possibilities have opened up to me.”

The ruthless look in his eyes chilled her, she was staring at him like she’d never seen him before.  “So if you value her life, then you will convince her to turn her attentions away.  Heed this warning Morgana, I am giving you this chance for the sake of the friend you once were.”

She didn’t try to answer.  It was a beautiful day, clear and clean and quiet, the scent of the trees was fresh, and the sun was warm on his back.  He left her sitting on the grass, damaged but not destroyed.  He knew it wasn’t enough, not yet, he’d have to see her again, she had too much fight in her to give up so quickly.

He was drained, in body and soul.  He didn’t want to retrace the scene of his crime and walk back through the catacombs and up into the castle, so once he was out of her sight he spoke the incantation for teleporting.

His landing was just as bad as the previous time, he skidded across the floor of Arthur’s chambers and only stopped when he banged his knee hard against the wooden foot of the bed. 

He sat up on the floor and sighed.  By his reckoning, barely fifteen minutes in the earth’s time had passed since he’d left the throne room.  They wouldn’t be looking for him yet.  He pulled himself up and sat on the edge of Arthur’s bed.  He was exhausted, he’d bumped his head on the floor again and his knee hurt.  His heart was aching, his spirits low.  He hated the look of terror in Morgana’s eyes, terror of him.  But the window he’d left open for her was closing, and he didn’t want his only choice to be her death.  He had to be cruel to be kind.

He glanced across the room and concentrated on the latch on the door.  It locked, and Arthur was the only one with a key.  He lay back across the end of Arthur’s neat bed that he’d made that morning, wondering vaguely if his clothes were very dirty from his trip through the catacombs.  He hoped not, but if they were, it was too late now, and he didn’t really care.  He didn’t move, and shut his eyes.  He wanted some peace and quiet, and no more pressure, just for a little while.

He was relieved, overall, that Arthur, Gwen and the knights knew about his magic.  It certainly made today’s dealings with Morgana so much easier for him when he could ask for their assistance and he didn’t have to hide from absolutely everyone what he was doing.  But he was finding he wasn’t looking forward to the repercussions of their knowledge, he didn’t want to have to explain to them what he’d done, or justify what he was going to do next.  He certainly wouldn’t have wanted to play out that scene with Morgana in front of them, the idea that they’d see him behaving that way made him feel vaguely ashamed and somehow unclean.

Even Arthur ... he was not sure what Arthur would have thought of him, acting that way.  He had felt the bond he shared with Arthur had grown and strengthened since Arthur had discovered his secret – strengthened so much that Merlin was suspicious of destiny’s tamperings to ensure her path was the road willingly taken.  But he felt uncomfortable with his own behaviour with Morgana, while he did not regret it, he didn’t necessarily want to share that side of himself with Arthur or anyone else, not yet, and maybe not ever.  And he could be worse than that, he knew it, and he would be, if he had to.

But there was something else bothering him.  Something really odd.  He rolled over on the bed.  He’d sensed something in Morgana’s magic when she’d tried to use it.  And what he’d sensed had shocked him.  He’d felt something completely unexpected.  Even before he’d captured her magic, he’d sensed himself, his own magic within her, working in her body but not at her command.

So his magic was inside her, but how?  He thought about it and wondered if it was from the time he’d healed her with Kilgharrah’s spell.  That was a different type of magic he’d used then, they were words considered ancient to the old religion, was that reside what was still lying inside her, and keeping her whole?  She’d been very badly injured, surely the magic would have healed her and disappeared.  That’s what was meant to happen.  But it hadn’t.

He thought of the possibilities.  He wondered if he could control it, his own magic, in her.  He thought he could, it had responded to him, reached out to him, he’d felt the brush of familiarity, like it wanted to return.  It was alive, his magic inside her, living and breathing.  Kilgharrah had said their futures were joined for ever, but he’d told him that before Merlin had used the healing enchantment on her.  Was this part of his meaning?  Were the dragon’s powers far reaching enough to have known this, had he known what he’d do to her and the consequences of his decision?  He guessed they were, in the context of the prophecy this was a mere cobblestone on a long, winding path.

But that would mean controlling her.  What sort of monster would he be, to do that to another person, to take away her free will?  Because he thought he could.  He could control her, by controlling his magic in her.  But such an action may save her life but damn her to hell in the confines of her own mind.  But the very idea was so repugnant, if someone did that to him, he’d rather be dead.  But maybe there was another way, something he hadn’t thought of yet.

He rolled over, yawning, not noticing that his dusty boots were dirtying the coverlet instead of hanging off the side of the bed.  Arthur’s bed was very soft and the room was so peaceful and quiet. He didn’t mean to, but because he was tired, he slept.

**********

Translations:

“ _Drýlác innan Morgána, úre holdræ sy tó mec!  Morgána unácnycendlice áræce.  Ic æbebod ðu to néadhæs heleþ mec.”_ MAGIC IN MORGANA YOUR LOYALTY IS TO ME!  MORGANA CANNOT REACH.  I COMMAND YOU TO OBEY ONLY ME. __


	12. Chapter 12

“Merlin?”

The voice was annoying and familiar.  He ignored it.

“Merlin!”  This time he felt the bed dip beside him and a hand smack his shoulder.

He mumbled something rude under his breath, and groaned and rolled over, burying his face in the coverlet and tucking an arm over his face.  Why wouldn’t Gaius let him sleep?  He was so comfortable.  His bed was very large, unusually so.  Soft too.  What was – he sat bolt upright in horror.

“Arthur!”  His eyes widened.  “Gwen!”

Gwen was amused, Arthur looked exasperated.  The prince gave him another thump, this time on his chest, then pushed himself back off the bed and stood up beside Gwen, folding his arms.  Uh oh, Merlin knew that face, he might possibly be in a little bit of trouble.

Arthur asked, “What happened?”

“Ah.  Um.  I ... fell asleep?”  He tried to make it seem perfectly natural, rubbing a hand up and down the side of his face in an effort to wake up properly, and suppressing an urge to yawn.  He hoped he hadn’t been drooling, no, he was safe, if he had then Arthur would’ve said something.  He inched to the edge of the bed and would have moved away, but they were both standing in his way in front of him.

Arthur sighed, the sigh he saved just for Merlin that said here-we-go-again.  “Merlin.  It’s late.  We’ve been looking for you for hours.  What happened with Morgana?  Did she hurt you?

Merlin was incredulous.  “No, of course not.  I took her into my time, carried her back out where she’d come in, scared the living daylights out of her, threatened her, then told her not to come back and let her go.”

“You carried her?”

Merlin supposed that was better than Arthur focusing on the scaring bit.  “Well, she kept falling over!  She couldn’t walk.  You’ve been in that with me Arthur, I made it a thousand times worse for her!”

“How on earth could _you_ carry her?”

Merlin was annoyed.  “I do have some upper body strength, thanks!  And ... oh ... _remember_?  I have magic!  I’ve carried you plenty of times!”

“Very well.  But that doesn’t explain what you’re doing asleep on my bed?”

Gwen was giggling helplessly.  Merlin shot her a reproachful look and turned back to Arthur.

“I teleported back in.  You saw how it worked last time.  I sat down to recover ... and I guess I fell asleep.”  He tried for sympathy and looked at Gwen innocently.  “I hit my knee _really hard_ , and I hurt my head _again_ , it’s probably _bruised_.”  Actually they were both pretty much fine now but there was no need to mention that.

Gwen was instantly concerned.  “Where, Merlin?”  He showed her the bump on his head and studiously avoided looking Arthur’s way.  “You poor thing!  What is teleporting, anyway?”

Arthur answered for him.  “Disappearing in one place, instantly reappearing in another.  Merlin’s not too good at the landings yet, though.”  He reached down and grabbed onto Merlin’s elbow, hauling him to his feet, disrupting Gwen’s examination.  “Come on, everyone’s been looking for you.  We were worried that something had gone wrong.”

Merlin sighed.  “But was Gaius concerned?”

Arthur frowned.  “Well, now that you mention it, no, he wasn’t.”

“Well there you go!  If Gaius is not worried, follow his lead!  He’s known of my magic since the day I arrived at Camelot, and just lets me get on with it, he certainly doesn’t fuss over me when I’m off saving your royal backside yet again, or gone to slay -” he fumbled to remember the name of a suitable mythical beast that had attacked them recently.

Arthur interrupted, smiling nicely.  “A dragon?”

“No!  Yes!  Whatever!”  He glared, irritated.  “You know what I mean.  You keep thinking I’m helpless, and I’m not, it’s annoying!”

Gwen interrupted their tête·-à-tête.  “If you two are finished behaving like children, then we need to get word to the others that Merlin has been found, and is safe.”  She gave him a reproving look and he squirmed uncomfortably.  “Merlin, when you didn’t come back we were worried.  We’re your friends, that’s what friends do.  They care.  You should have seen Arthur, he was frantic!”

Arthur shifted from one foot to the other.  “I wouldn’t say frantic, not at all.  It was more that I was being ... mindful ... for Merlin’s safety, as I would be for anyone in a similar situation.”

Gwen wasn’t letting it go.  “You _were_ frantic, Arthur!  You were beside yourself, the worst of us all!  Leon and Percival had to practically sit on you to stop you tearing off recklessly to find him.  Not that any of us even knew where to start looking.”  Merlin blinked at her, then his mouth twitched as he glanced at Arthur.  Gwen continued, “I’ll leave you two to your squabbles, I’ll find the knights and let them know Merlin is alright.”

Arthur frowned again as Gwen left the room, but he wasn’t frowning at her.  He said to Merlin.  “You’ve been gone for nearly four hours.  How long exactly, were you off with Morgana?”

“Oh ... ten minutes, fifteen at tops!”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve been asleep on my bed since then!”

Merlin was silent.

“Well?  What have you got to say for yourself?”

“You said not to tell you!”

Arthur gave a huff of exasperation.  He thought of something else.  “Gwaine told me something ... intriguing.”

Merlin’s eyes narrowed at his tone, it was both accusing and incredulous.  “What?”

Arthur was blunt.  “He thinks Morgana almost ... kissed you, at one point.”

Trust Gwaine to have noticed that, Merlin hoped he was the only one that did.  “She did not!  And what would Gwaine know, anyway?”

“A lot about women, according to him!”

“Well, if he thinks he’s _my_ friend he’d better get to know _me_ better.  There’s no love lost between me and Morgana.  There was certainly no kiss, and there’ll never be one.  And he knows nothing about magic.  It was just her reaction to the magic, I let her sense mine, that was all.  It surprised her.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He was sure her reaction was because her magic had sensed his, and known it.  Merlin stood up abruptly.  “I have to find Gaius.”

Arthur was alert instantly.  “Why?”

“Something I need to discuss with him.  Magic.  Something odd.”  He was reaching for the door as he spoke, surprised to see Arthur following him.  “Do you know where he is?”

Arthur followed him when he opened the door.  “He was going back to his chambers, but that was a few hours ago.” 

Merlin took a few steps down the corridor before he realised Arthur was following him.  “You don’t need to come, Arthur.  This is something I need to discuss with Gaius.”

“I want to be involved, I told you so, remember?”

Merlin hesitated, mindful of a guard down the end of the corridor.  He said quietly, “Arthur, you need to trust me with the magic stuff, okay?  Leave it with me, my job is the magic, yours is to rule.  I need to discuss something with Gaius, that’s what I usually do.  I rely on his knowledge a lot.  I’ll talk about it with you later.”  He thought of something.  “And I’ve got to go down to the vaults, I need to have a look again at that book the goblin planted on me.”

“Well, I’d better come with you then.”

“Why?”

“I’m the only one that has the keys to the vaults, Merlin!”

Merlin smiled, amused.  “You don’t seriously think I need keys to get into the vaults, do you?  I go down there all the time!”

“You do?”

“Yes!”  Merlin suddenly realised Arthur was looking a little out of sorts.  “Arthur, your security is good enough for anyone without magic.  But it was useless for anyone with a bit of magical ability, I had a look in there a few months after I first came to Camelot, it was simple to get in and my magic was much less developed back then.  But no need to worry now, a while back ago I put an enchantment on it so no one else except me can get in through magical means.” 

Merlin was so pleased with himself, that Arthur couldn’t help a small smile.  He gave him a friendly whack on the back.  “Alright.  Off you go then.”

*****************

The book was helpful, in a way.  It was evening now, and dark in the depths of the castle.  Merlin sat alone in the vaults, he’d found a huge old padded throne in there during one of his previous visits that he’d dragged into an out of the way nook.  The red fabric on the chair was moth eaten in places but the padding was mostly intact so it was still comfortable to sit on.  The throne was beside a carved wooden statue as tall as a man, the statue was of a huge lion holding a shield marked with the Pendragon crest.

The Fisher King’s trident lay on the floor beside him.  It had been leaning against the wall beside the throne originally, but he’d knocked it over almost every time he came in so now he left it on the floor and didn’t bother to pick it up. 

He’d locked the door behind him, and was deep enough in the vaults that the guards wouldn’t see the light he’d conjured even if they walked directly past the door. 

It was cold underground, so he fiddled with the magic on the light until it glowed with a warm heat.  Finally satisfied, he twisted sideways on the throne and hooked a leg over one of the armrests.  The book was hundreds of pages long, much longer than his spell book.  He’d thought previously about keeping it in his room so he could glance through it whenever he had time but it was too big to fit under the loose floorboard with the other paraphernalia he had stuck in there.

He flicked through the book, he knew what he was after, but it was difficult not to be distracted by all the other interesting magic it contained.  He really should enlarge the space under the floorboards, the book was fascinating and he hadn’t had a chance to read it in months.

Ah, there.  That was what he was after.  He bought the light closer, turning down its heat, and read carefully.  Pleased, he nodded to himself and snapped the book shut.  He had to find Gaius.

*********************

Gaius wasn’t back again yet, but he’d been here at some point, since there was a pot of stew cooling on the corner of the table.  Merlin was to keyed up to eat, he paced up and down the floor of the room he shared with the physician impatiently, moving across the wooden floorboards in long, quick strides.  It could work, it might, should he try it?  After all, what did they have to lose?  He really needed to talk with Gaius.

The door opened, Merlin stopped his pacing, and Arthur and Gaius walked in.  Merlin was tense, he knew they both read it from the way their gazes honed in on him.  He couldn’t wait, they were barely in the room before his eyes flashed gold and the door slammed behind them, the lock clicking.

Arthur jumped, Merlin paid him no heed, the prince would have to get used to this eventually.  He ignored the reproving glance from Gaius and said to him in a low voice, “Gaius, she has my magic inside her, Morgana does.  She doesn’t know it, she has no control over it, but it’s there.”

Gaius shook his head.  “What do you mean, Merlin?”

“When I healed her, when she was dying from the fall, the enchantment I made Kilgharrah give me to heal her head injury.  It’s still there, Gaius.  It hasn’t gone, it’s keeping her alive.”

“It shouldn’t work that way, Merlin.  Your magic should have healed her and faded away within hours, and certainly once her wound had healed.”

“But it didn’t, it hasn’t, it healed her, but it’s still there.  She doesn’t know.  She can’t command it.”

Arthur interrupted.  “This is unusual?”

Merlin glanced at him.  “Yes.  But Gaius, what does this mean?  She can’t control my magic, inside her, but I can, I know it, I felt it, when I bound her magic to mine in the Throne Room.”

“You’re not thinking you can control _her_ through this link, are you?  Such an idea would be fraught with danger, even for you.”  Gaius was very uneasy at the direction this conversation was heading.  “You may end up privy to her thoughts and emotions, you may not be able to stop hearing them inside your own head.  I hardly need tell you that wouldn’t be good.”

Merlin stopped pacing.  He bent his head and leaned over the table, resting his weight on his knuckles.  “Yes, I know, but not that.  I don’t want to control her, but I _could_ do it, Gaius, but not that, no.  I’m looking for an option.”

He turned to Arthur, rubbing his forehead.  “I want another option.  I’ve killed many to protect you and Camelot, I don’t like to Arthur, but I will do it if there’s no other way.  But I don’t want to kill her.  I told you I poisoned her long ago, and I shouldn’t never have done that, but to save you all I had to, I didn’t know what else to do.  But I wonder ...”

He turned to Gaius.  “You cautioned me never to reveal my magic to her.  But what if I had, what if she’d turned to me instead of Morgause?  I never gave her that option, I all but pushed her away.  What if I was wrong?  I should have saved her.”

“If she’d known about your magic you would have eventually ended up on the pyre, Merlin.”  Arthur flinched at these words, and Gaius continued, “You’re not responsible for the choices she’s made.”

“But I _am_ responsible for limiting the choices she had.  I betrayed her, I damn well _poisoned_ her, when she’d done nothing wrong, she trusted me, she thought I was her friend and instead I tried to kill her.  What does that make me?”

He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.  “I don’t like her any more.  I think I hate her, for what she has done.  But I still ... care about what happens to her, I can’t help it.  Even if she has killed so many innocents.”  He remembered what had happened when he’d released Kilgharrah, and added in a near whisper.  “But so too, have I.  I’m no better.”

Arthur heard.  “What do you mean?”  Merlin shook his head and turned away.  Arthur pressed.  “Merlin?”

Gaius’s concern and unease was increasing.  Merlin couldn’t look at Arthur.  He said quietly, “I was responsible for Kilgharrah attacking Camelot.  I released him.”

Arthur was silent for a long moment.  “I know.”  Merlin and Gaius stared at him with varying degrees of apprehension and confusion.  “I guessed you’d released him Merlin, just a few days ago, after I realised you were a dragonlord.  But you weren’t responsible for his rage, it wasn’t you who’d imprisoned him.” 

Merlin didn’t know what to say.  Sometimes he just didn’t understand Arthur, the prince should be raging at him for that.  He turned away to hide the sheen of tears in his eyes.  Arthur walked across to him and put a hand on his shoulder.  “Look.  It’s alright.  I’m not going to turn against you for everything that may have turned out wrong in the past.  It’s done now, it can’t be changed, and I’m sure you’ve beaten yourself up enough without me adding to it.  You’ve got to stop thinking the worst of me.  Trust me, huh?” 

Arthur squeezed his shoulder, Merlin nodded, so he stepped back, glancing across at Gaius.  He saw the older man’s anxiety was easing, Arthur sat down on the long bench beside the table and waited patiently for Merlin to turn around.

He did, he walked across to his room and sat down heavily on the steps, leaning his head against the wall.  He said quietly, “My magic, inside her, is healing magic.  I can give away my control of it, and mix with hers.  It will change her.  I don’t know how much, but having something _good_ inside her may give her more peace.  It’s very strong magic, it’s a mix of mine, as well as the ancient beginnings of the old religion.”

Gaius was still very uncertain.  “If you do that, you may only increase her power, and relinquish any control you think you may have over her.  You may make her grow more powerful, Merlin.”

“It’s healing magic, Gaius . That’s its sole purpose, it won’t work for anything else.  There is no evil in healing.  I believe it may help her back on the path of good, she _feel good_ about herself, when she uses it to save a life.  It may be the making of her.”

Arthur was fascinated by their interaction.  It seemed he discovered more and more about Merlin each day.

Gaius was speaking again, “Merlin, I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, when I say your abilities with healing magic are ... even for someone of your great power ... extremely poor.  The magic may be healing her but if she’s relying on your abilities to utilise it later ... well, you don’t have much aptitude for that type of magic.”

Merlin smiled, sitting up straighter on the steps and resting his hands across his knees.  “I know, I’m aware of my limitations.  But she won’t be drawing on my skills, but the magic itself.  I know I can help her.  It will work differently in her, I know it.  I read about it again, when I went down to the vaults, there was something about it in the text the goblin found.  It’ll work.  This is a possibility only because she was mortally wounded _and_ I healed her using very ancient magic from Kilgharrah, that sort of power isn’t known today.”

Gaius said, “I’ll concede there would be few, if any others, who could have wielded that magic.  But are you sure?” 

Merlin stood up, leaning back against the wall.  He said evenly, “I can mix it, she can’t, but it won’t work unless she’s willing to let me, the mix will fail if she resists.”

“Why would she be willing, Merlin?  She would never willingly allow you to take control of her to do this.  She would never believe you’re telling her the truth about it.”

“She might.  I’ll talk to her.  She’ll have no other choice, she’ll know if Arthur already knows about my magic she won’t be able to bargain with me to keep my secret from him.  And I won’t let her remain a threat to us, she’ll realise that.  And ...” he hesitated and looked away awkwardly.  “She’s ... uh ... she’s very drawn to me.  Well, not me exactly, but my magic.  I’d never let her sense it until today, and she was ....”  He knew he was digging himself into a hole so he decided he may as well be blunt.  “Look.  I terrified her, when I took her away in my own time.  I wasn’t very nice, and I scared her a lot.  She’s hated me for a long time, and she’ll hate me more now for that.  But ...”

He bit his lip, embarrassed, then said in a rush, “But she’s incredibly attracted to me, she can’t help it, it’s the magical pheromones, her own magic is reaching out to me.  It recognises my magic because she already has some, but she doesn’t _know_ that.  Her control is still fairly weak, and she’s always been prone to act on her impulses, without thinking of the consequences, even in unfavourable circumstances.  I’m sure I can convince her to have a ... uh ... discussion, with me, about it, and maybe get her to agree.”

Arthur’s face was a picture of horror warring with amusement, although amusement was beginning to win out, and even Gaius seemed to be having trouble keeping a straight face, so Merlin said hastily, “Look, this is getting really embarrassing.  Let’s just say I am completely irresistible to her, so since I am I’ll use it to try and get her to agree to what I want to do with the magic.  It’s manipulation, I know, but it might yet save her.”

He stood up and crossed his arms.  “And neither of you had better _ever say anything about it to anyone_.”  He barely glanced at Gaius, it wasn’t him that needed threatening.  “Aw, come on, Arthur!  It’s not funny, it’s a little bit scary, I don’t like it!  How would you feel if it was Morgause who was keen on you?”

Arthur snorted, barely suppressing his laughter.

Merlin glared at him for a moment and then said bluntly, “Would you rather me kill her?”

Arthur sobered instantly.  “No.  Of course not.”

“Well we need to find her, I think I can make this work but I won’t know until I see her again.” 

****************

 


	13. Chapter 13

It was another four days before they were ready to search for Morgana, as Arthur had various duties to attend to as Regent that he’d been neglecting during the past week which couldn’t be put off any longer.  Merlin wanted to go alone, he had argued about it with Arthur several times.  Yet Merlin hadn’t been able to bring himself to directly defy Arthur and sneak off alone, like he had when he’d gone to Cenred’s lands.  Arthur’s reaction to his disappearance had both surprised and touched him, and he knew his role was to guide and protect Arthur as his Prince and Regent, and not be a law unto himself.

So although Merlin was tempted to go off on his own tangent, he didn’t.  He knew his power and strength was growing, it frightened him sometimes.  He needed Arthur to keep him grounded and perhaps rein him in if the need arose.

Arthur had also wanted to spend some more time with his father.  It had pained Merlin to watch him, Arthur had wanted him with him during his visits, the king was getting more incoherent and disturbed.  The only relief he seemed to find was when he was in a drugged sleep, but Gaius was reluctant to give him the medicine often as he was concerned it was placing too much pressure on the King’s heart.  Gwen sat with them too, for some reason her presence seemed to calm the king, even though he didn’t seem to know who she was, or even who Arthur was much of the time. 

In the end, it was decided that Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine and Lancelot would go on the search for Morgana.  The prince had also decided this was the perfect time to begin his visits to the druids.  Merlin was far less sure about the wisdom of this, if the druids were sheltering Morgana and Morgause and he created conflict within the druid encampment that was sheltering them, then as far as he thought this wasn’t ideal at all.

Merlin wasn’t happy about Lancelot and Gwaine coming either, but Arthur had over-ruled him, they set off now, on horseback.  The path through the woods near Camelot was a well-used track, they were still able to ride the horses two-abreast here.  The sunlight filtered through the trees, the air was warm but mild.  After several hours they stopped for a break, Merlin tied his horse’s reins around a tree branch and sank down gratefully against the trunk, pulling an apple from his pack and taking a bite, and watching the others lazily.

Gwaine and Lancelot sat on the ground several yards away, and Arthur found his own tree trunk to lean against not far from them.  None of them were prepared for the bandit attack when it came, the first clue was the arrow that quivered to a sudden stop in mid-air in front of Merlin, the second clue was the yelling and shouting as the group ran to attack.

Arthur leaped up but hadn’t even had time to draw his sword when a gold shield exploded in front of them, the blast of energy sending several of their unfortunate attackers flying backwards into the air to crash onto others behind them.  As a group, the bandits froze mid-attack, their weapons dangling from suddenly nerveless hands.

One of their attackers, probably their leader, was on horseback, and his horse pulled up just short of the shield, rearing backwards, its hooves pawing the air.  Then Arthur’s mouth dropped open, because the horse began to enlarge, its head elongated and its neck stretched up, and its eyes turned a wicked, glowing red.  Rough grey scales began to form all over it, its hooves turned into claws, it opened its mouth and roared out a stream of fire, showing off its sharp teeth;  it had turned into a dragon.

Merlin was watching this alteration, his head tipped to one side, an inquisitive and slightly fascinated expression on his face, the half-eaten apple held negligently in one hand.  He hadn’t stood up since the attack began, he was still leaning back against the tree, seemingly relaxed.

And he hadn’t finished yet.  The man sitting on top of the horse, or dragon as it now was, was immobile with shock, as were the rest of the bandits who’d been watching this hideous transformation.  He suddenly seemed to realise he was sitting on a dragon and scrambled off with haste.  But as he fell to the ground, his skin turned green, he grew taller and thicker, his muscles bulged, and terrible fangs dripped from his lips; he’d turned into an ogre.

The saddle broke off as the dragon unfurled his wings and gave them an experimental flap, sending a gust of wind over everyone.  Merlin took a bite of his apple, watching the horror-struck faces, then suggested offhandedly to their stunned attackers, “You’d better run.”

Less than a frozen moment later and with much screaming and yelling the bandits fled, followed by the large green ogre who did not seem to realise what he’d become and who was doing plenty of screaming of his own. 

Merlin grinned to himself, taking a final bite of his apple then tossing it to the side.  He stood up, brushing his pants off casually.  He glanced at Arthur, who had a hand on his sword hilt but hadn’t yet managed to draw it, and at Lancelot and Gwaine who were still sprawled in stunned disbelief on the ground.

He commented to no one in particular, “That was fun, I haven’t tried it before, but it worked well, don’t you think?”

Arthur swallowed, and tried to speak but all that came out was a croak.  He decided to sit back down.

The bandits were long gone, if you discounted the faint screaming in the distance.  The shield flickered once then disappeared.  Merlin smiled happily at his three friends.  “You know, it’s much easier for me to perform defensive magic when I don’t have to hide it from you all.”  There was no response.  “Um, not that any of you were much help, anyway?  Your turn next time, huh?”

Arthur finally found his voice.  “Err, yes, of course.  Yes.”  His hand flopped off his sword hilt.  That was all good, very good.  But there was still a little problem.  “Uh, Merlin?  What are you going to do with ... the uh, the dragon?”

They all looked at the dragon, it had wandered over to their horses but instead of trying to chew on them it was busily cropping at a tuft of grass, its long scaly tail draped over a small tree, flattening the branches.  Did dragons eat grass?  Arthur wondered why their horses weren’t scared of it, he was certainly wary of it, although a lot smaller than Kilgharrah, its appearance was much fiercer.  He didn’t think Merlin’s dragon had those nasty red eyes either.

“Oh.”  Merlin’s eyes glowed, the dragon vanished and the horse re-appeared in its place.  “It wasn’t really a dragon, Arthur, just an illusion.”  He smiled kindly.  “Illusions are easy, but transfiguring the horse into a dragon would have been very difficult.  And I didn’t need to, I only wanted to scare them off, not kill them, so why bother?  Was the dragon-ogre thing too over the top?”

Arthur slumped back against the tree, he felt a little weak for some reason.  Dealing with a bandit attack in the usual way involving risking life and limb may have been preferable to witnessing Merlin’s version of bandit defence.  If this was happening again, he wanted a warning first.  He cleared his throat, “No Merlin, it’s fine.  It’s fine, really.”

“Great.”  Merlin looked around brightly.  “Will we keep going now, then?”

After several more hours, they came to a small clearing near a stream.  It was already early evening.  Merlin stopped and dismounted, he was a little impatient, since the attack, he’d been thinking about something as they rode but wasn’t sure how it would be received by the three men with him.  He decided to wait until after they’d eaten and settled in for the night to discuss it with them.

Arthur handed him his horses reins and Merlin tethered the horse to the tree beside his own mount.

The prince had recovered from his shock, he dropped the packs he’d taken from his horse in the middle of the clearing.  “Merlin, you set up camp, and Gwaine, Lancelot and I will get some firewood and see if we can find any small game.”

Merlin pulled the packs off his own horse and dropped them beside Arthur’s gear.  “Um, I’ll set up camp and get the firewood.  You can hunt, if you must.”  He turned around to check where Lancelot and Gwaine were, then put a hand up in the opposite direction, his eyes flashed and he murmured, _“Scrépe_ _bearu, bannuc ellen, gedafen for æledfýr, efeste hlíp tó mec!”_

A flurry of logs and small branches came hurtling out of the trees towards him, and with a twist of his wrist he directed them to the centre of the clearing, where they formed a pile.  He re-arranged them with another thought, and sent one log off to the side that was really just too big to burn, it would make a good seat.

He glanced over at his and Arthur’s bags on the ground, his eyes changed colour but he didn’t speak as they unpacked themselves in a neat arrangement around the unlit campfire.  Lancelot and Gwaine were standing stock still, holding onto their bags, Merlin gave them a questioning glance which they didn’t seem to understand, so he did it anyway, and their bags tugged themselves out of their hands, their bedrolls neatly arranged themselves too.

Merlin was pleased, it had taken only a few minutes, he had his usual sore bottom from sitting on a horse for half a day and now he could relax.  But there was one more thing to do.  He glanced at the fire, it wasn’t yet dark but it was starting to cool down so he may as well light it now.  After all, it would be no effort to get more wood later if they ran out.  The wood was quite dry and would burn easily, so he didn’t put much effort into it and his eyes barely changed colour as the flames crept around the dry wood. 

He watched the fire for a moment to ensure it had taken hold, when he was satisfied it had he stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders, glancing with deliberate nonchalance at the three statues nearby.  “Well, what’s taking you all so long?  Do I have to do _everything_?  Oh ... I’m sorry, did I forget to mention, _I have magic_?  Are you hunting before it gets dark, or not?”

Arthur’s punch on his arm almost sent him onto his backside.  “Show off,” the prince muttered, but he was amused.  “Maybe you should come hunting with us, too.”

“Ah, no, I don’t think so.  You can kill some fluffy little bunnies without me.”  He dodged the next whack, and threw Arthur a cheeky grin which the prince couldn’t help but return.

Merlin hunkered down on the log he’d saved from the campfire as the others headed into the bush to look for game.  It had been easy to follow Morgana’s trail.  He’d picked it up from where he’d left her outside Camelot several days ago.  He was mainly following his own magic trail, she hadn’t used his magic of course but he could still sense where it had been.  He’d also heard her snarl his name a few times, so now he was sure that was a side-effect from taking her into his own time, since he’d been able to track Arthur in the same way.

Her trail was heading north so he wondered if she was heading for the druid camp led by Nathaniel as Iseldir had mentioned.  He could contact Iseldir to ask, but they were still more than a day’s travel from Nathaniel’s camp, and although Iseldir would be able to hear Merlin he wouldn’t be able to respond, so Merlin didn’t bother about it.

He watched the flames in the fire build up, and absently made a dragon shape out of the clouds of smoke.  He hoped all his magical displays weren’t alarming his friends too much, but now that he was able to use magic openly in front of them he found he wanted to use it whenever he could, all the magic he’d suppressed for years was bursting to come out of him.  It felt good to use even the simple wood gathering enchantment again, he’d used that regularly with Will in Ealdor, but not once since he’d come to Camelot. 

The dragon shape dispersed as the smoke floated higher into the sky, and he made another.  He wished the others would hurry and come back, he was impatient talk to them and to see what they thought of an idea he’d had while they’d been riding. 

He wondered how much longer they’d be, he’d been keeping a half-hearted eye on them, on Arthur anyway, it was habit for Merlin to track Arthur’s movements, he did it without thinking, long tendrils of magical threads reaching out and touching him every few minutes.  The hunt had been successful, they’d caught something but he didn’t know what, and were on their way back to the camp now, not more than a few minutes away. 

It was a fluffy little bunny, several of them actually.  Arthur very kindly tossed them onto his lap.  And Merlin had to skin them, he wondered if they expected him to use magic to do it, but he’d tried that once before and ended up covered in blood and fluff and other ghastly bits and pieces he didn’t want to think about.  That had been a couple of years ago, but the memory was still vivid enough to mean he wasn’t in the biggest hurry to try it again, especially in front of Arthur.

Once the meat was roasting over the fire, Merlin glanced around at them all.  Arthur had stretched out his hands towards the fire to warm them.  Lancelot and Gwaine were sitting on Merlin’s log.  He cleared his throat to get their attention, and said a little nervously, “Um, look.  I’m worried about what might happen to you all, when we meet Morgana and Morgause, especially if they’re with other magic users and things get hostile.  I ... want to shield you all.”

“What?”  Arthur dropped his hands from the fire and turned in Merlin’s direction.

Merlin repeated, “I want to shield you all.  I’ve been working on personal shields, not like the one I used when you saw me with Kilgharrah or that I used on the bandits, but individual ones.  They’ll protect you against most magical attacks and help if anyone tries to physically harm you.”

They all stared at him.

Merlin stood up, and stepped over Gwaine’s outstretched legs.  “Gaius let me experiment on him, we have two choices, I can either link it through your chainmail, or just wrap the shield over your skin.  I think the personal ones over your skin are better, they’re much easier for me, I can just put them on you and forget about it.  It’s a little more difficult to keep up the enchantment in the armour, it might be something to do with its surface, it’s not very smooth, I have to keep renewing it.”  He picked up his water flask and took a sip.

He began to pace.  “The other thing is, there’s a slight glow when I do it, it wouldn’t be noticed in sunlight but it will be at night, or in deep shade.  So if you want the armour one, it will need to be taken off if we’re out of the sunlight and we don’t want it to be known that I’m using magic.  But if you let me put a personal shield over your skin instead, I can keep it under your clothes so the glow won’t be seen and I won’t need to take it off at all, not even at night.”

He paused.  They were all looking at him in complete astonishment, he hoped they weren’t totally adverse to the idea.  He rushed to finish the explanation.  “Look, it’s a good idea, it will mean if I’m distracted and I can’t stop you getting hit by an enchantment, it’ll bounce right off you.  And if you were shot by an arrow it won’t leave anything more than a light bruise, maybe not even that.  That might’ve been useful today, if I’d been too slow with the large shield.  But I can’t protect your head, or your hands unless you wear gloves, because you’ll glow and give it away so it’s not totally foolproof ... but what do you think?”  Merlin was uncertain, they were all looking at him strangely.  He knew they were all his friends, and they accepted his magic, but maybe this was a bit too much at once, he might have overdosed them on all the magic today.

“Uh, I know you’re all worried about this, I can tell.  But there’s no need, honestly, it won’t hurt you, it won’t control you, or restrict your movements, it might be a little warm on your skin but you probably won’t notice it after a while – won’t even feel it.  And the glow isn’t that bright.  Come on, it’s got to be better than getting injured or killed, so what do you think, will you let me do it?”  Merlin stumbled to a stop, nervous.

Lancelot gave him a look of complete exasperation.  Then Gwaine and Arthur stood up at the same moment, and moved towards him.  The prince shook his head.  “You really are a complete idiot, aren’t you Merlin?”

“Err?”  Merlin was unsure if being an idiot was a good thing or not.

Gwaine clapped him into one-arm bear-hug.  “What Arthur means, is of course it’s a good idea.  Why wouldn’t we try it?”  He dropped his arm and gave him a thump on the back and Merlin tripped forwards.

“Um, I don’t know.  I mean, it’s magic,” he said as if that explained everything.

Not be be outdone, Arthur gave Merlin a whack on the arm.  “Idiot.  I’ll go first then.  What do I have to do?”

Merlin blinked.  “Uh, okay.”  Being an idiot _was_ a good thing.  “Um, I discovered with Gaius it’s easier for me to get the shield on if you’re standing up.  And I need to put one of my hands flat against your skin when I do this, so your waist or chest is best as it’s too difficult if I try just holding onto your hand, or an arm.”

He helped Arthur take off his chainmail.  “You can leave your shirt on.  Now, I’ll put my hand against your chest.”  He turned around so he was facing the prince, and pushed up his shirt, placing his hand flat against Arthur’s stomach.  Gwaine and Lancelot crowded around to watch.

“Ouch Merlin, your hand’s cold!”

Gwaine couldn’t resist.  “Better warm it up for the princess, Merlin.”

Merlin grinned at him, and did as he was told.

Arthur frowned.  “What, you can do that too?  What else can you do with magic?”

Merlin shrugged.  “This and that, I guess.  Now, are you ready?”  Arthur nodded.  “Then keep still, it should only take a minute.  And you need to focus on my eyes, they’ll go fairly gold but try not to look away, it works better if you keep looking at me.”

Merlin took a deep breath, then his eyes flared a deep, burnished gold.  His voice was strong and commanding.   _“Bordrand ic ásciepe, ferhweard þes mann fram swegl and drýcræft demm.  Béo béor teo fær, ensura non anda canne cume teo þes álibbend ðu ic bebierge.”_  As he finished the incantation his eyes flashed again.  Arthur struggled not to break eye contact but the glow in Merlin’s eyes was almost blinding.

Merlin’s eyes went back to blue, he dropped his hand out of Arthur’s shirt.  “You alright?”

Arthur nodded, and pulled up his shirt sleeve, checking his skin.  “It does glow a bit, doesn’t it?”

“It’s a bit noticeable through your shirt but once you have your chainmail on you won’t see it.  And remember, your head isn’t protected, so use your arms or your body to protect it if you need to.”  He tilted his head to the side.  “What does it feel like, is it too warm?”

“You haven’t tried it on yourself?”

“No, not this type of shield, it’d blunt my magical senses.  So, what does it feel like?”

Arthur thought about it.  “It’s warm, but not too warm.  It feels nice actually.  Kind of comforting, like snuggling under a blanket on a cold winter’s day.”  He tipped his head to the side.  “It has an odd energy to it, like when I’ve won a tournament, or that rush you get when you’ve going into battle.  And it has a smell too – all these strange things, like rain after a drought, or those cakes we have on feast-days, it smells a bit like Gwen’s hair after she’s just washed it ... and ... you, of all things.”  He seemed to suddenly be aware of what he was saying and his uncharacteristic rambling, and stopped hurriedly, a slightly disgusted expression on his face.

Gwaine and Lancelot were smiling, and Merlin _was_ embarrassed, he hadn’t been expecting such a detailed answer.  “Arthur that’s nice to know because that’s your interpretation of my magic.  Sounds like you don’t actually mind it at all.”

“I told you I was alright with it.”

“I guess you really are.”  Merlin was still embarrassed, and slightly overwhelmed.  “Lancelot, are you next?  Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask your interpretation of it.”

“Merlin, I’m happy to give it.  Come on, let’s get started.”

Arthur watched Merlin go through the same thing with Lancelot, then Gwaine.  His shoulders slumped when he finished, he seemed tired.  Arthur put a hand on his shoulder and handed him a cup of mead. 

“Here, compliments of Gwaine.  The brighter your eyes, the more power you use, right?” 

Merlin turned to Arthur, surprised.  “Yes, how did you know?”

“The dragon said something about it, when you were talking about moving time.”  He said to Merlin carefully, “Your eyes were pretty bright then.  You didn’t use too much magic on us, did you?  Are you tired?”

Merlin smiled.  “I’m not tired from overuse of magic, Arthur.  That was just a few drops in a lake.”  He glanced across to Gwaine who was grinning to himself and pulling up his shirt to admire his golden glow.  Merlin tried not to laugh.

“Alright, now one thing to remember, just because it protects you from physical harm doesn’t mean you can try anything stupid.  If you step in the campfire you’ll get burnt, or if you cut yourself with a knife, you’ll bleed.  That’s because those injuries would be self-inflicted, it won’t protect you from your own stupidity.  And remember, it doesn’t protect your head or hands at all, so be careful.”

Gwaine was examining his golden arms now.

“Gwaine, put your chainmail back on now, huh?”

Merlin went back to the fire, Arthur hunkered down beside him and checked the meat.  It was ready.  “Anyone hungry?”

They all sat down by the campfire to eat, it was dark now.  Arthur finished his meal and leant back against his pack, linking his hands behind his head and watching the glow of the flames, thinking.  Merlin was beside him, he swapped from watching the fire to staring at Merlin.  Arthur had never felt such peace and contentment before, not even when he knew Gwen loved him.  Never before had he felt such a sense of things being _finally right_.  The only dampener on his general feeling of happiness was his father’s poor health.

Knowing about Merlin’s abilities put them officially on an even par, though he’d not thought his servant was anything less than him for a long while now, but now the knowledge of their linked destinies and Merlin’s abilities had really opened his eyes to his friend’s true worth, not just to him but to the future of Camelot.  So many people who didn’t even know it were dependent upon Merlin, perhaps more so than they would be on him as the future king.  Arthur felt he could finally acknowledge Merlin’s worth and importance to him, which in a way was crazy because his magic still had to remain a secret from most. 

Feeling his stare, Merlin turned and made a face at him, Arthur would have thrown something at him but he was too comfortable to move.  Arthur’s cup was empty, Gwaine poured him a second drink of mead. 

“Merlin?”  Gwaine held up the bottle, but Merlin waved away the offer of another. 

The mead had settled in Merlin’s stomach, one cup had been enough.

Gwaine waved the bottle back and forth.  “Come on, Merlin.  We’re out alone, in the forest.  You’ll be alright.”

Merlin thought about it.  “Well, if you want to wake up in the morning to find the horses have turned into wilddeoren, _you’ve_ turned into a girl, and your own personal shields keeping you safe from harm have cut off the circulation around your necks ... although you probably won’t wake up at all if that’s the case ... then sure, be my guest.  Pass me more mead.”

Gwaine pulled the bottle back and Arthur suppressed a grin.

 

****************

 _Translations:_

 _“Scrépe_ _bearu, bannuc ellen, gedafen for æledfýr, efeste hlíp tó mec!”_ :  DRY WOOD, SMALL BRANCHES, FITTING FOR FIRE, HASTEN HERE TO ME

 _“Bordrand ic ásciepe, ferhweard þes mann fram swegl and drýcræft demm.  Béo béor teo fær, ensura non anda canne cume teo þes álibbend ðu ic bebierge.”:  SHIELD I CREATE, GUARD THIS MAN FROM PHYSICAL AND MAGICAL HARM.  BE STRONG, IMPENETRABLE TO ATTACK, ENSURE NO INJURY CAN COME TO THIS ONE WHOM I PROTECT._

 


	14. Chapter 14

Early morning, and Merlin woke to a hand pressing over his mouth.

A low voice near his ear.  “It’s me.” 

Merlin nodded his understanding and Arthur took his hand away.  Merlin sat up and looked around, Lancelot and Gwaine were crouched just back from the still burning campfire, their swords drawn in the dim morning light.  He couldn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary and reached out with his magical senses.  Nothing there either.  He whispered, “What is it?” 

The horses were prancing nervously, Lancelot went across to them to calm them.

Merlin tried again.  “Arthur?”

The prince shook his head.  “Don’t know.  But all the sounds in the forest have died out, can’t you tell?  There’s something out there.”

Then Merlin noticed it, the heavy sound of an ominous silence.  The back of his neck prickled, he reached out again, searching with his mind, but found nothing.

“I can’t sense anything, Arthur.”

The prince turned to him but whatever he was about to say was lost when screech after screech split the air.  Three of them knew that sound.

“Wyvern!”  Gwaine yelled across the clearing.  The horses were going crazy.  “Sounds like at least three or more.  Merlin, help Lancelot with the horses, get them under the trees.  Hurry!  You stay back there with them, wyvern are damn hard to fight when they’re coming at you from the air but we’ve got your shields on, so we’ll stand a chance.”

Merlin shouted, “Gwaine, Arthur, no!  You’ve got to get back!”  Another screech from above and Merlin looked up, the wyverns were coming now, and there were four of them.

Gwaine was still yelling.  “Merlin, they’re creatures of magic.  You won’t be able to do anything, they’re impervious to magical attack, you can’t fight them!  They might’ve been attracted by the fire, but now they’re probably after the horses, if they’ve caught their scent they won’t back off.  They’re vicious hunters.  Move, now!”

At Gwaine’s words, Arthur’s arm was hard across Merlin’s chest, he began to drag him backwards to the tree line, gripping him over the chest with one arm while holding his sword in the other hand, hissing threats about orders and obeying or else, then the first wyvern began to swoop, it was all happening too fast.

Merlin didn’t have time to try and explain.  He pushed around Arthur, opened his mouth and the power roared out of him, a dragon’s roar that shattered the sky.  The first and second wyverns were blown back in the air by the force, crashing into the two flying behind them.  They regrouped and recovered again to begin their attack but it had bought Merlin enough time.

Arthur hadn’t let go but he wasn’t holding him quite so tightly now, Merlin pulled out of his grip and yelled over at Gwaine.  “Remember they’re related to dragons, Gwaine, now get out of the way and let me take care of it.  And _don’t_ try to harm them!”

He didn’t have time to make sure they were obeying him, the wyverns were coming, he pushed Arthur behind him and ran to the centre of the clearing, near the fire.  The words roared out of him, strong and commanding, and broking no possibility of disobedience, _“Stille níeten dracans!  Ic bebodræden ðu to stille!  ðu níedhæs mín gewill, ðu béo under mín ríce, wyrmes.”_

The wyvern soaring down to Gwaine pulled back from him instantly, almost backfipping in its haste, then they all landed in a neat row in front of Merlin.  All four bowed their heads, their claws scratching the earth.  Their red eyes glowed as they looked around, long sharp teeth glistening in the early morning light.  The horses stamped nervously and whinnied, Gwaine hurried to help Lancelot with them.

Merlin tapped a finger on his mouth, thinking.  Wyverns were creatures of magic, he hadn’t been able to sense them.  And that meant, if he kept one with them then Morgana would not be able to scry them either.  He smiled.

He turned to the three wyverns closest to him, pointing into the air, his tone still commanding.  _“Edcierr to sé Précne Élandes, sweree to edcierr sele ic i ábene.”_

The three took to the sky, leaving one remaining.  Merlin studied it properly for the first time.  It was smaller than the others, he wondered if it was a young one.  Maybe he should have kept one of the bigger ones, but it was a bit late for that now.  He reached his hand out to touch it and it shrank down and hissed, a growl of sorts rumbling in its throat.

Oh no, he’d been too harsh earlier, he’d gone and scared it. 

He crouched down at eye level with the creature and said in a milder voice, coaxing, _“Wúscbearn lígdracan.  ðu gewill fullgenge mec and ðu gewill geondscéawe nánuht tó ege.  Ic mæne ðu no bealu._ ”  He stretched his hand out again, this time the wyvern allowed him to touch its head with some reluctance.

Merlin decided that would do for now.  He turned back to the others, pleased with his plan, but he was met with three appalled faces.

Arthur spoke for them all.  “No, Merlin!  No, no, no!  Please don’t tell me what I think you’re going to tell me.  That _thing_ , is not coming with us!”

Merlin looked back at the wyvern.  It was lying on the ground now, hissing to itself, and snuffling around the edge of the campfire.  Maybe it could smell the remains of their meal from last night.

“Well ....”

“Merlin, you’ve got to be kidding me!  No way!  It’s a wyvern!”

“Yes, but Arthur, it’s totally under my control!  It won’t hurt you, well, not unless I die unexpectedly, and then I really couldn’t say what it’d do!  But look at it, I think it’s just a young one, do you want to pat it?”

 _“Merlin!”_

Merlin put his hands in the air, appealing.  “I want to take it with us.  It’s a creature of magic, I couldn’t sense it coming, so I’m sure it will block Morgana if she’s trying to scry us.  And she might be, for a flock of wyvern to turn up like that near Camelot can’t be normal, can it?”

Gwaine supported that argument, or at least some of it.  “Merlin’s right.  Wyvern have never been known to be found anywhere outside the Perilous Lands, or at least not far past their close boundaries.  This is bad country for them, they can’t hunt well in forests, they need open ground.  Someone must have sent them our way, maybe not to us directly but to cause trouble in Camelot.”

Merlin nodded.  “And that would take powerful magic, for someone to get them to do anything at all.  Only a dragonlord can control them properly, and as far as I know I’m the only one now.  But a powerful sorcerer may be able to encourage them to fly our way.”  He stopped and thought.  “I wonder if Morgause is more recovered than Morgana led us to believe.  But even if she was, I can’t see why she’d do it, it would have taken far too much magical strength, it would have taken her ages to recover from that without any guarantee she’d be able to send them to us.” 

Lancelot spoke up.  “I don’t know about this, Merlin.  What about the horses?  They’re terrified of it.”

“Ah, yes.”  Merlin hadn’t thought of that.  He looked at the five horses doubtfully, they still had the one the bandits had left.  “I suppose I could try and give them an enchantment to calm them down.”  He wasn’t sure how to do it, he hadn’t tried to do such a thing to a horse.  “Or maybe we should leave them here and go on foot, what do you think?  The forest is getting thicker, we might have to leave the horses soon anyway and get them on the way back.”

Arthur sighed.  “Let’s leave the horses and walk.  And _you_ can carry my pack.”

Oh yes?  But Merlin hadn’t finished yet.  He pondered an idea, and left the wyvern near the fire and walked across to the three men, careful to not go _too_ close to Arthur.  He schooled his expression to one of serious contemplation, and said innocently, to Arthur, “Um, maybe I should have kept them all.  We could have ridden them, instead of the horses.  I could call them back?”  He looked hopeful.

Arthur’s face was priceless.  “ _What the hell!_   You ...!  Are you a _complete_ _idiot,_ Merlin?  There is no way, no way, ... you ... you idiot!”

Merlin turned away from Arthur and didn’t try to hide his satisfied grin from Lancelot and Gwaine.  This was really too much fun.  He said solemnly, “Yeah, Arthur, you’re probably right.  They’re nowhere near as big as Kilgharrah.  They’re probably too little to ride.”  A muffled snigger escaped him, Arthur spun round and stalked towards him menacingly, but Merlin didn’t care, he backed away towards Gwaine and Lancelot without trying to hide the mirth on his face.

Arthur growled and made a grab for him, but stopped in shock when a loud screech split the air.

They all turned to face the wyvern, it was standing up now, swishing its tail back and forth, red eyes fixed on Arthur and Merlin.

Gwaine said faintly, “Uh, Arthur, you’d better not do that.  Someone over there likes Merlin.”  The wyvern flapped its wings.  “Quick, give him a hug.”

Arthur’s mouth dropped. “What, the wyvern?”

“No, princess!  Merlin!  Show it you’re friendly with him.”

Arthur looked from Merlin to the wyvern to and back again.  Merlin shrugged, it was probably a good idea.  He put his arm around Arthur’s shoulder and tugged him forwards.  “Come on Arthur, come and meet him ... or her, I have no idea.  He won’t hurt any of you, but you’ll all need to meet him.  I really need him to come with us.”

He took Arthur across to the wyvern, when they were close he pushed the prince behind him and placed his hand on its head, between its eyes.  He spoke to it gently in the old language, words of gibberish that Arthur couldn’t understand.

The wyvern stopped its tail swishing and settled down again.  Still keeping Arthur behind him, Merlin grabbed the prince’s wrist and placed it on the wyvern’s head, beside his own.  The wyvern didn’t react but Merlin said in a totally different tone, with a slight snarl to his words, _“Gif unc bealu þes mann, þás sé git, ic dóm ábradwe unc!”_

The wyvern bowed its head again and and then flattened itself in abject submission on the ground.

“Alright, that’s all cleared up now.”  Merlin decided to stretch the truth somewhat.  “As long as none of you yell at me, or try to harm me, our little friend here will be fine.”  He smiled to himself, it was a lovely day.

***********

Arthur found their journey through the forest, now with a hissing wyvern added to their party, was not quite as enjoyable as the previous day.  They’d left the horses behind, and he’d let Merlin lead, after all, he was the one able to follow Morgana’s trail.  And the wyvern followed directly behind Merlin, today Arthur didn’t feel inclined to argue about any particular pecking order. 

Arthur stayed well back from the swishing tail, swinging his sword around and wishing he could poke the wyvern with it.  He was torn between exasperation and amusement with Merlin.  Merlin paid as much attention to the wyvern as he would a horse, he’d even looped Arthur’s pack over the spikes running across the creature’s back;  that had been Merlin’s cheeky answer to Arthur’s insistence that he had to carry Arthur’s bag.  Arthur wished he hadn’t pushed that issue now, he was feeling thirsty but not at all keen to try and remove his pack from the wyvern himself to get his water flask, or even worse, to ask Merlin to get it for him.  Merlin had certainly won that round.

As the scrub became thicker, Merlin stopped and turned around.  The wyvern pushed up against him and butted its head against his hand in a quest for attention, Merlin patted it absently.

“Arthur, grab your pack.  I’m going to have to tell the wyvern to fly for a while, the scrub is getting too dense for it to get through, it might get caught up in the bushes, it could hurt its wings.”

Arthur stuck his sword in the ground.  “I’m not going near that thing.  _You_ get the pack.”  He crossed his arms, if that snort from Gwaine was laughter he wasn’t going to be responsible for his actions.

Merlin gave him a quick look and his eyes widened, taking in his mood.  He blinked. “Err, yes, Arthur.”  Obediently, he stepped around and reached up past the creature’s spikes to tug Arthur’s pack off its back.  The wyvern twisted around, rubbing the side of its head against Merlin’s back.

Arthur stared at it, both repulsed and strangely fascinated.  “Is the thing _purring_?”

Merlin scratched his head and looked at the wyvern.  It was.  “Yeah, that’s what it sounds like, a growly kind of purr.  I didn’t know they could do that.  I suppose it’s happy.  Have you heard of that, Gwaine?”

Gwaine pushed through the scrub to stand beside Arthur, Lancelot followed.  “No, mate.  Never, ever heard of a purring wyvern.  All I know of them is that they’re aggressive predators.”

Merlin patted it again and the purring increased.  “Must be the dragonlord thing.  It’s more animal-like than Kilgharrah.  It certainly can’t speak, but it seems to generally understand me.  About the same amount of intelligence as a dog, I think.”  He glanced furtively at the wyvern then at Arthur, and the prince rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll do your thinking for you, Merlin.  No, you can’t keep the wyvern as a pet.  No, you can’t bring it back to Camelot.  It will eat the cattle, the horses and my subjects, and destroy the houses.  Not to mention, if you did, someone just might _possibly_ assume you have magic or dragonlord powers.”

Merlin looked at it a bit longingly.  “Maybe some day ... later.”  He sighed.  “But you’re right.  Kilgharrah might be cross with me, if I did.  Oh well.”  He tossed Arthur his pack, it hit the wyvern’s tail and bounced off, the creature squawked and stopped purring, and then rubbed its head back against Merlin, nearly pushing him over.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry, that wouldn’t have hurt you anyway.”  He bent down beside the wyvern and spoke some words in the old language, pointing up in the air.  The creature squawked again then took off, brushing through the tree branches into the sky, staying not far from them and circling overhead.

By mutual and unspoken agreement, that night, when they made camp, Arthur, Lancelot and Gwaine set their bedrolls up on the far side of the campfire, well away from Merlin and his new friend.

Once they’d eaten, Merlin settled down quickly for the night, the sound of his heavy breathing and the wyvern’s muted snorts and hisses the only sounds to be heard.  Arthur, Lancelot and Gwaine stayed awake much longer, not talking at all, watching the campfire, Merlin and the wyvern – but mainly Merlin and the wyvern.  Once Merlin had gone to sleep, the wyvern seemed to take it for granted that it was allowed to move closer, and it did, inching up slowly beside the sleeping figure, creeping quietly and noiselessly until its head was hanging over Merlin’s face.  The red eyes disappeared, Arthur wondered if it was going to sleep.  Merlin didn’t stir.

They all watched, equally drawn and repelled by the sight.

Lancelot said in a low voice, “Do you think it’ll hurt him?”

“It won’t.”  Arthur was sure it wouldn’t, if he’d had any doubts he would have had his sword through it in an instant.  He watched and said softly, “What must it be like, to have abilities like that?  To be unafraid of such a creature, to command its loyalty with such ease?  The thing actually likes him.”

Lancelot, ever Merlin’s champion, said quietly, “Merlin is very special.”

And Arthur knew it was true, his throat was suddenly tight, he couldn’t imagine a life without the idiot by his side.  When did Merlin sneak under his guard and become so important to him?  He knew if he was truthful with himself it was years ago, but it had taken him a long while for him to recognise it.

They didn’t speak again for some time, then Gwaine whispered, “Is it drooling on him?”

They all leaned forwards.  It certainly appeared that way.  The wyvern’s long, grey tongue was poking out through a row of sharp teeth, and a glistening strand of clear liquid was trickling in an ever-growing pool onto the back of Merlin’s head, running down down the side of his neck, under his neckerchief.  Merlin didn’t even move.

Lancelot asked, “Should we wake him?”

Arthur smiled for the first time all day, and settled down comfortably on his bedroll, linking his hands behind his head.  “No.  And _that’s_ an order.”

 

**************************************

 _Translations:_

 _“Stille níeten dracans!  Ic bebodræden ðu to stille!  ðu níedhæs mín gewill, ðu béo under mín ríce, wyrmes.”:  STOP, SMALL DRAGONS!  I COMMAND YOU TO STOP!  YOU MUST OBEY MY WILL, YOU ARE UNDER MY POWER, WYVERN._

 _“Edcierr to sé Précne Élandes, sweree to edcierr sele ic i ábene.”:  RETURN TO THE PERILOUS LANDS, NEVER TO RETURN UNLESS I CALL YOU._

 _“Wúscbearn lígdracan.  ðu gewill fullgenge mec and ðu gewill geondscéawe nánuht tó ege.  Ic mæne ðu no bealu.”:  OH LITTLE DRAGON.  YOU WILL OBEY ME AND YOU WILL HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR.  I MEAN YOU NO HARM._

 _“Gif unc bealu þes mann, þás sé git, ic dóm ábradwe unc!”:  IF YOU HARM THIS MAN, OR THE OTHER TWO, I WILL KILL YOU!_

 _****************************_

 


	15. Chapter 15

They were close, Merlin knew, because the pull of his magic was strong.  Morgana wasn’t far away.  He’d stopped following her trail now, he could feel his own magic, nearby.  Now that he was aware of its existence in her it was easy for him to sense it.  He was sure she was within the druid encampment, he knew it was nearby because he’d felt a low buzz in the air that he associated with large groups of magic users for close to an hour now, the buzz was simmering behind protective shields used to screen the camp from casual visitors.

“Do you think they’ll know we’re coming?” Arthur asked him.

Merlin was sure they didn’t.  “No, they won’t because of the wyvern.  But I going to have to let him go now, we’re getting too close.”  He walked across to the wyvern and scratched it on the head, talking to it in the old language, and pointing up into the air.  The creature gave a mournful sounding screech, then took off through the trees.  Merlin watched it go, a pensive expression on his face.

He turned back to them.  “Are your shields still feeling okay?”  They nodded.  “I hope we won’t strike trouble, but I’d rather be prepared.  And I need to call Iseldir.  I don’t know if he’s still here, but I hope he is.  It’ll be easier to visit the camp with a trusted guide.  And I know Morgana is there, but I don’t know about Morgause.  He may be able to tell us.”

Gwaine asked, “What’s the plan, we find them?”

Merlin was troubled, he exchanged a look with Arthur.  The prince answered, “I don’t know.”  He reached for his pack, Merlin passed it across to him and Arthur swallowed a mouthful of water.  “Merlin is going to talk to Morgana, if he can, and probably alone, without us.”  Remembering why, he gave Merlin a somewhat amused look and Merlin winced.  “But if we find Morgause is here too ... I don’t know what we’ll do.  She’s our enemy, by rights we should kill her before she can attack again.  She’s certainly shown a lot of persistence in her efforts to destroy Camelot.  But we know she’s been injured, if she’s still badly hurt she may not pose a threat to us any longer.  So we’ll see.”

Merlin agreed.  “But one more thing.  Please Arthur, _please_ don’t let it be known you’re the Prince of Camelot.  I don’t know how the people of this camp will treat you if they know who you are.  If there are refugees here from other camps you attacked when we were searching for Morgana more than a year ago, they may be very hostile towards you.  I need to be able to concentrate on one thing at a time, I want to deal with Morgana and Morgause first, without having to worry more than I usually do about your safety.”

Arthur sighed.  “We’ve been through this before, Merlin.  It could be a good opportunity for me to start building relationships with these people, you said so yourself.”

“But not if I have to go in there, and attack some of them!  What if Morgana and Morgause are valued members of this camp?  What if they try and attack you, or Lancelot, or Gwaine?  I’m not going to stand there and let it happen, I’ll fight back!  Then how do you think they’re going to feel towards us all?”

Gwaine and Lancelot had already been privy to this argument several times.  Gwaine spoke up, “Look, I haven’t said anything before, but I agree with Merlin.”

“Well, you would, wouldn’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you might be a Knight of Camelot, but you’re his friend first, right?”

Gwaine looked at Arthur like he was stupid.  “Well, yes.  Of course.”

Lancelot stepped between them.  “Arthur, we need to follow Merlin’s advice on this.  We’re going into an encounter with people who have magic.  If they’re hostile, we’ll have to rely on Merlin to handle the situation.  I understand you’re keen to right the wrongs of the past, but this may not be the time to do it.  Merlin wants to focus on Morgana and Morgause for now, so let him.”

Arthur stared at them all for a long moment and then looked away.  “Very well.”  He walked away from them, and dropped down beside a nearby tree, sitting on the ground and leaning back against the trunk.  “Merlin, you’d better call Iseldir, then.”

Merlin gave him a significant look but held his silence.  They were all silent, and watched as Merlin’s eyes took on a far away expression.

After a while he turned back to them.  “Good, Iseldir _is_ here.  He’ll come out to meet us, he won’t take long.”  Merlin dropped his pack onto the rough groundcover under the trees beside Arthur, and sat down beside him to wait for the druid.  He nudged the prince a little to move over so he could sit against the tree trunk too, without having the leaves of a nearby bush in his face.

Merlin still had wyvern-drool on him, Arthur could see it on the back of his neck and in a sticky mass in his hair.  “Pass me your water flask.”

Merlin gave him a quizzical glance.  “”Did you run out?”

Arthur shook his head.  “No, you’re still covered in drool from your new best friend.  Do you want it washed off, or not?”

Merlin made a face and reached for his pack, pulling out his flask.  He passed it to Arthur and the prince tugged off Merlin’s neckerchief, soaking it then using it to wipe off the dribble.

“Thanks.”  It was done, and Merlin squashed the wet neckerchief into his pack and glanced in the direction of a small valley off to their left.  He concentrated for a moment, shutting his eyes and rocking forwards slightly as he searched.  “Iseldir and ... Nathaniel, the Chieftain at this camp, are coming out to meet us.”  He stood up and reached out a hand to Arthur, pulling the prince up.  “Here they come, now.”

Merlin walked forward to meet them.  Iseldir was smiling.  “Emrys, it’s good to see you again so soon.”  Merlin was surprised at how pleased he was to see the druid too.  He returned the greeting, Iseldir dipped his head to him and then to Arthur, “Prince Arthur.”  He exchanged greetings with the prince, then turned to the druid beside him.

“Emrys, this is Nathaniel, he’s the Chieftain of this camp.” 

Merlin studied him openly.  Nathaniel was probably in his forties, around Iseldir’s age.  Unfortunately his magic was locked up tight, and the magical shields around the edges of the camp were distracting as well, so Merlin could not get a sense of his character through his magic yet.

Nathaniel was returning his interest, staring at him with unconcealed curiosity, he seemed slightly overwhelmed.  “You know Emrys, Iseldir!”

He said to Merlin, “My Lord, I am honoured to meet you at last.  We’ve been waiting for you for eons.”

Merlin tried not to wince and met Iseldir’s eyes.  The druid said, “Nathaniel, Emrys prefers you to use his name, not a title.”

Nathaniel shook his head.  “It wouldn’t be proper, such familiarity doesn’t show respect.  My Lord?”

Nathaniel was regarding him with some awe, it made Merlin uncomfortable, he’d done nothing to deserve such esteem.  He ran a hand through his hair.  “The time for titles is not now, use my name please.”  He turned and beckoned to the others.  “Nathaniel, these are my friends, Gwaine, Lancelot and Arthur.”  He deliberately left Arthur last, trying to play down his importance, but Nathaniel had heard Iseldir’s earlier greeting.

“Prince Arthur of Camelot?  What brings you all to visit my camp?”

Merlin sighed, he had to head this off.  “Nathaniel, we’d like to visit your camp, but I must ask you not to reveal who Arthur is.”  His tone was firm, with an element of command, it made Arthur look at him with a touch of surprise.  “And furthermore, I don’t want you to reveal my identity.  Can I trust you to do that?  I can’t give you my reasons, but they’re important.”

Nathaniel was willing to obey.  “Of course, Emrys.  Although there are one or two high ranked members of my camp who may recognise you on sight, as I did.  But I can speak with them and request they keep your identity concealed from others.”

Merlin nodded, “Thanks, please do that.”  He glanced at Iseldir.  “Nathaniel, my friends and I need to speak with Iseldir.  Will you excuse us for a moment?”

The chieftain nodded, “Of course.  I’ll go back to my camp and wait for your arrival.”

Merlin watched the druid leave, he noticed a slight shimmer in the air as he passed through the magic barriers on the path into his camp. 

Iseldir said, “You’ve shielded your friends, Emrys?”

“It’s that obvious?  Will others notice?”

“Nathaniel will, once he gets over your unexpected arrival and starts thinking again.  Possibly some of the others, the ones that will recognise you for who you are on sight.”

Gwaine had been trying to catch Merlin’s eye for a while, and now he interrupted, clearly curious.  “Merlin, why are they calling you Emrys?”

Iseldir told the knight, “Because that’s who he is.”

“I’ve heard of Emrys.”

Merlin groaned, “Not you, too.  Don’t worry about it for now, huh?”

Lancelot glanced from the druid, to Arthur, Merlin and Gwaine, then back again.  Clearly he was missing something but he’d ask later. 

Arthur asked, “Iseldir, Merlin tells us Morgana is here.  Is Morgause here too?”

“No, she’s not.  Morgause left less than a week ago, she’s searching for ....”  he hesitated and Merlin’s eyes narrowed.  “Emrys, she’s searching for you.”

“Me?”  Merlin was puzzled.  “Then why didn’t she just go to Camelot, we were there until a couple of days ago.”

“No, Morgause isn’t searching for _you_ , she’s searching for Emrys.”  Iseldir explained further.  “Morgana went to Camelot a little over week ago, didn’t she?  I couldn’t warn you, I can’t teleport there as there aren’t any safe patterns to use, and I can’t use mind speech over such a distance.”

Arthur said, “Morgana did visit Camelot.”

Iseldir continued.  “Morgana was ... disturbed about something, when she came back.”  He said to Merlin, “I am guessing you saw her, and possibly frightened her somehow?”

Merlin was non-committal.  “You might say so.”

“I’ve met Morgana before, she spent some time in my camp once, although I didn’t have anything to do with her then.  But I sought her out here, after her visit to Camelot she was definitely frightened, and a little angry.  Whatever happened, I know Morgause has decided to seek out Emrys, she’s headed to Alined’s kingdom, as she’d heard Emrys had been sighted there.”

Merlin scratched his head.  “I don’t think so.”

Iseldir nodded to himself.  “Emrys, Morgause was injured after her attack on Camelot.  Physically she’s almost fully recovered thanks to Nathaniel’s healer, although her face is scarred.  But magically ... she has some way to go.  She had some trauma to the head and her magic is unstable.  She’s weakened magically, I don’t know if she’ll fully recover, and I believe she seeks out Emrys as an ally.”

Merlin said, “That’s not going to work.  And Morgana didn’t go with her?”

“No.”  Iseldir said seriously, “After her visit to you she seemed far less keen to continue her current aggression to Camelot.  But I don’t know how long she’ll take that stance.  If she’s not acting only because she fears you, then that will only hold her back so long.”

Merlin thought about it.  “We were troubled by wyverns on our journey here.  Do you think Morgause could have sent them?”

“No.”  Iseldir was adamant.  “She doesn’t have the magic for that, she couldn’t have done it even without being injured.  _I_ couldn’t do that.  And they’ve been a problem for some of the camps near the Perilous Lands for some months now, Catalin and Senias returned to deal with them, their camps have been troubled by the creatures.  My own camp killed one not that long ago.  The magic changed in the Fisher King’s domain a while back, something spooked them, this is the first time we’ve seen them outside those lands in generations.”

Merlin sighed, something else he’d need to take care of.  Still, he might see the little guy on the bridge again, he had some interesting magic.

But there was another thing he couldn’t work out.  “Iseldir, you knew who I was when you first saw me, so did Nathaniel, so did Taliesin, and the Fisher King.  Morgause has never even realised that I have magic – although she will by now - yet her magical strength feels similar to yours.  How is it that you know of me, and she doesn’t?  Am I blocking her, without knowing it?  Is she less powerful than she seems?”

Iseldir thought about it.  “Taliesin ....”  He shook his head, “Emrys, Taliesin was a valued seer to the kings of old, and he died more than three hundred years ago.”

Merlin’s eyes flicked to Arthur, he knew that, Gaius had already told him.  “Yes, he took me to the Crystal Cave, near the Valley of the Fallen Kings, he said it was where magic began.  I looked into the crystals ....”  He paused, troubled, remembering the visions.  “And everything came true, no matter what I did.”  A shadow passed over his face.  “And I don’t believe he was an illusion or a ghost, he healed Arthur’s arrow wound, I couldn’t do it.”

The prince put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, moving to stand beside him, forgetting about the others for a moment.  “You told me the arrow didn’t pierce my armour.”

Merlin said quietly, “I lied, Arthur.  It did.  I’d failed, I didn’t protect you properly, and I couldn’t heal you.  You were dying.  If Taliesin hadn’t healed you, I was going to call Kilgharrah, even if it meant ... things would not go well for me, after that.”

Between Arthur and the visions, that hadn’t been one of the better days in his life, the memory pained him even now.  Arthur left his hand where it was, it troubled him to see the sadness lingering on Merlin’s face, he remembered how distracted he’d been that day.

Gwaine asked, “What do you mean about the Fisher King, Merlin?  I saw no one.  You were a bit odd, when we broke into the throne room, did something happen?”

Merlin glanced at Arthur, he appreciated the connection, Arthur’s hand on his shoulder.  It was ... comforting.  “Yes.  We spoke, but now he’s dead.  He was waiting ...”  His voice trailed off and he looked down at the ground.

Iseldir finished his sentence, “For you, Emrys.  As we all have been.”

Merlin tried to smile.  “No pressure, huh?”  He was still troubled, Arthur could see it, and he moved his arm across to Merlin’s other shoulder, standing beside him in a loose, one-armed embrace, willing Merlin to draw on his strength.  He felt Merlin relax a little against him.

Iseldir watched their interaction keenly, and then spoke to Arthur.  “You must look after Emrys, for us, Prince Arthur.  He brings hope to us all.”

Now Merlin was embarrassed, he shook his head and hurried back to their earlier conversation, leaning into Arthur’s hold instinctively.  “I was asking, how did you know who I was, but Morgause didn’t?  I want to know, if I can block my magic or identity from others I’d like to know how I’m doing it.”

“Emrys, Morgause sees what she wants to see.  She’s seen you through Morgana’s eyes for a long time and had no reason, perhaps until now, to expect you were more than what you seemed.”  Iseldir’s glance took in Arthur.  “I could say the same for your prince.” 

“Thanks, Iseldir.”  Arthur’s voice was tinged with irony, he arched an eyebrow.

Iseldir smiled at the response to his gentle barb.  “I know about you, Emrys, because I’m the chieftain of my clan, my magic is more powerful than most druids, on par with other chieftains.  It allows me to sense you’re more than you appear to be.  You’re a paradox, Emrys, a truly powerful magic being, yet I find it extremely difficult to sense that you actually have _any_ magic at all.  Your magic is very different to others.  And Emrys, the druids have stories about you, passed down from one generation to the next, that spoke of your coming and the signs pertaining to it.  That’s how I know about you.”

Merlin sighed.  “So I can’t block this knowledge from Morgana or Morgause, then?”

“I don’t think so.  Morgause is powerful, but she’s not a druid.  She was bought up in bitterness and hate, her interests lie in areas that promote her own agenda;  until recently she had not even heard of Emrys, I know, because she had to ask around this camp to hear the old stories.  If she delves into things deeply, and recovers magically, I believe she’ll discover who you are soon enough.”

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not happy with this response.  He felt like he was being pushed too quickly, he wanted more time.  Arthur’s arm tightened around his shoulders.  “I have faith in you, Merlin.  We’ll deal with her as we need to, it’ll be alright.”  Merlin’s eyes dropped, he studied the ground for a long moment then nodded.

Iseldir was pleased with what he saw.  “Are you ready to go into the camp now Emrys?  Nathaniel’s keen to spend some time with you.”

The followed Iseldir into the camp, Merlin walking beside the druid and stumbling slightly as they passed through the magical barriers.  Nathaniel was waiting, Merlin looked around, curious, at the sight that met them as they entered the hidden valley.

The camp was large, one of the biggest he’d seen.  More than two dozen tents in a whole spectrum of colours were spread around the open spaces beneath the trees.  Wooden charms and colourful strips of cloth hung like flags from tree branches.  Herbs were spread across wooden racks to dry in the dappled sun between the trees.  Sacks of precious grain and wicker baskets of root vegetables were stored beside frames where dead pheasants and rabbits hung, waiting to be cooked.  A woven pen of long, thin vines housed a clutch of squawking chickens.  As they passed the pen, a small girl emerged, holding onto three fresh eggs.

A handful of campfires were dotted around, their edges marked by stones.  Nathaniel led them to one near a bronze coloured tent.  There was a pot simmering over the fire, Nathaniel lifted the lid; it was stew, and he ladled out a bowl for each of them.

They sat down around the campfire to eat, Merlin between Arthur and Iseldir.  Nathaniel was on the other side of the campfire, with Lancelot and Gwaine.  Merlin was quiet, unusually so, he sensed Nathaniel was bursting with curiosity at his presence, but Merlin himself was almost pensive.  So this was another side to his destiny, he belonged to the people he saw here as much as he belonged to Arthur.  They were connected, all of them together, but would the connection be freely embraced by all when the time came?  Would he get the balance right?  Would they welcome him when the time came?  He suddenly felt very young, and very unsure. 

He watched the people, the ordinary druids going about their daily business.  They were interested in him, but not in him specifically, but in all four strangers to the camp.  After his discussion with Iseldir Merlin knew that most would not sense he had magic at all, so at present it seemed like four apparently non-magical visitors warranted enough importance to visit with two chieftains.  And Merlin was aware enough to realise that Nathaniel was constantly shooting surreptitious glances at him that were tinged with a sense of wonder and awe.  And if he was picking up on the chieftain’s interest in him, then so were some of the other druids;  Merlin watched as one old woman who’d been frowning at Nathaniel for some time suddenly switched her gaze to Merlin.  Merlin’s heart sank as a look of comprehension dawned on her face.

Merlin finished the stew and placed the bowl on the ground, ducking his head and fiddling with his pack, fighting a sense of unease.  He suddenly wondered if this visit had been a good idea.  He should have insisted that he make this journey alone.  He could have been more secretive without the presence of the others, he could have avoided Nathaniel and stayed only with Iseldir.  He felt a little anxious and frustrated, he had to be able to deal with Morgana and eventually Morgause, without alienating these people, he had to get it right and he didn’t know how to.

Arthur tapped his leg, interrupting his brooding, and Merlin realised Iseldir was speaking to him in a low voice, being careful not to be overheard.  “Emrys?  Nathaniel means well.  He’ll support you, whatever happens.  But it may have been better if I’d been able to prepare him for your visit.  He is chieftain of this clan, and a good man who is well-liked by his people, but despite his power he’s a simple man who wears his emotions on sleeve, he’s not able to easily disguise his feelings at meeting you.”

Merlin bit his lip and Iseldir continued quietly.  “You don’t understand how it is for us, Emrys.  Your very existence is nothing short of a miracle to my people.  I feel many of the emotions Nathaniel feels, but I’m better at concealing my thoughts than he is.  Please don’t be critical of him for that.” 

Merlin nodded, but he didn’t know himself if it was in agreement with Iseldir or only in acknowledgement of his words.  He knew Arthur was listening into this conversation too, and it added to the pressure Merlin was feeling.  Because he’d taken Arthur here, knowing that they’d find Morgana.  And he shouldn’t have done so.  What if Arthur was forced to kill his own sister?  It was wrong, Merlin knew he’d made a mistake leading the prince here.

Arthur had been ready to kill his father years ago when he’d discovered the truth of his birth, and now Merlin was allowing him to be placed in a similar situation with Morgana.  What if when they met, Arthur was so angry at her betrayal he was ready to kill her too?  But if the prince had killed his father it would have broken him, Merlin knew with a sinking sense of dread the situation with Morgana was very similar, why had he not realised this previously?

He made up his mind.  Resolute, he stood up, unaware of the pain shadowing his eyes.  There were more druids gathering around the campfire now, but he didn’t look closely to see if any had come to the same conclusion about him that the old woman had.  He glanced around, she’d disappeared.  He had to deal with Morgana now, and then get them all out of here, but _how_ he’d handle Morgana he really had no idea.  His earlier optimism seemed totally unfounded now.

Merlin had detected no threat from anyone, and his shields protecting his friends were strong, so he turned to Iseldir.  “I need to find someone.  Look after my friends please.”  He didn’t ask the druid to protect them, he knew it went unsaid. 

Arthur looked up at him in surprise, the bowl of stew still in his hand, and Merlin said to him flatly, “Stay here.”  He didn’t bother to make it sound anything less than an order, and he didn’t care if it annoyed the prince.

Merlin slowed time, not much, for less than a minute, just enough so he could disappear behind a nearby tent before anyone could follow him.  He knew to anyone who’d been watching him it’d seem like he’d simply disappeared.  Perhaps that was a stupid thing to do given he was trying to remain anonymous and anyone who’d been glancing his way would now realise he had magic – strong magic - but that thought didn’t stop him.

He’d be done and they’d be gone before long.

At least, that’s what he hoped.

 


	16. Chapter 16

Merlin’s face was blank.

He followed a path leading off to his right, down a small hill.  He knew that was where Morgana was, somewhere down there.  He didn’t know what he was going to do with her.  She knew about his magic, and it was only a matter of time before she knew about the rest.  It made his heart heavy.

He was sure Iseldir would guess where he was going, but he didn’t want Arthur following him, or Iseldir either, he wanted to do this alone.

No one paid him any particular attention as he moved between tents and past several campfires.  The encampment was spread through the valley they’d entered, as well as the edges of the surrounding hillside, and its very size helped him blend in.  He followed the magical trail through the valley, past colourful blankets draped over ropes that had been strung between trees and other washing drying in the sun.

And there it was, an unremarkable forest green tent pegged beneath the shaggy embrace of a huge, old oak tree.  He knew Morgana was in there, his magic called his name.  She was alone, he felt it in her lack of contact with anyone else inside.  He leant back against the oak tree, placing his hands flat against the gnarled old wood, shutting his eyes, letting just a tendril of his magic drift out before he withdrew it again, allowing it to tell her he was here.

He knew when she felt the shift in the air, he sensed her sudden recognition of his presence, her anger, her fear ... and something else.  He didn’t move, and waited for her to come to him.  She did, and when he knew she was close, he opened his eyes, and still blue eyes met stormy green.

She was wearing a muted tan druid cloak fastened at the neck, over a lighter shirt and dark brown pants.  Her hair was loose.  “How are you, Morgana?”  His voice was calm.

She wasn’t calm, she was wary and angry, and full of fire, she stopped within an arm’s length of him, refusing to be cowed.  He remembered how she’d been when they’d last met and almost admired her for it.

She started with the first attack.  “You followed me here!  How dare you!”

“I dare a lot of things, Morgana.”  His calmness was a mask, it slipped, she saw and took a step back.  He pushed away from the oak tree and looked in the direction of the tent.  He was cold.  “Is she in there?”  He knew she wasn’t.

She didn’t ask who he met.  “No.”

“I’m sure you won’t mind if I take a look.”  He wasn’t asking permission, and she knew it.  He moved towards the tent, she wanted to stop him, but she didn’t.  He pushed his way through the flap and looked around, resting his hand on one of the heavy wooden beams supporting the structure.  He wondered why he was doing this. 

A large wicker basket stood in a corner, and beside it, was a table with a plum-coloured cloth draped over it.  On the table was a stoneware drinking jug and two carved wooden cups.  He picked one up, rubbing his thumb over the carvings on it, and felt rather than saw her irritation.  Several intricately embroidered cushions were scattered on each of the two beds inside the tent; a dark green velvet gown was lying across one of them.  He recognised it, and picked it up.  “Yours?”

It wasn’t really a question and she didn’t answer, she was quietly fuming at the intrusion, he wondered how much goading it would take before she cracked.  He wanted her to crack, he wanted to fight with someone, and she always rose to the challenge.  And at least when she was fighting with him, she’d be honest.

He tossed the dress back on the bed and turned to the other.  The bed was neatly made, a light chainmail shirt was folded across one end, and a pair of small caramel-coloured boots were tucked just under the bed’s edge.  He guessed who they belonged to.  He nudged one of the boots with his foot; the boot fell over.

He tipped his head to one side looked at Morgana.  “She’s recovered, hasn’t she?”

Apparently that was goading enough, she was across to him without thinking, thrusting herself into his personal space, trying to force him out of the tent.  “She’s not here, and don’t you ever touch her again!”

He almost smiled.  “I told you what you had to do to keep her safe, Morgana.  Did you listen?  Did she?”  He stepped forward, challenging her, but she didn’t back down. 

Her mouth twisted, she was triumphant.  “It won’t matter!  The druids have a protector!  She went to find him, but he’s here already, right now, in this camp!”  She pushed at him, her palm flat on his chest, against his jacket, and he took half a step back.  “You don’t know all the prophecies, Merlin!  I asked, and it’s true, Arthur may be the Once and Future King, but you didn’t know the real power will belong to a druid, to Emrys!  He’s the most powerful warlock who will ever be, you’ll never touch us again!”

No.  He wondered how she’d heard Emrys was here and felt a momentary surge of annoyance against Nathaniel, he’d _told_ him to keep his presence a secret.  “No, Morgana.”  He was almost gentle, almost sad, and it stirred her anger.  “The real power doesn’t belong to Emrys, rule and responsibility will always be Arthur’s.”  Unable to stop himself adding fuel to her fire, he baited deliberately, “You’re wrong, again.”

Her hand flew up to strike him, the release of his magic was instinctive, without it he wouldn’t have been able to stop her, she’d always been better than him in physical combat.  He held her wrists as she struggled in his grasp, and he said lazily, aiming to antagonise, “Don’t make me contain you again.  I will, and it won’t just be your magic either.”

She didn’t answer and he glanced down at her, prepared for more hostility, but her eyes were confused.  He remembered and smiled slowly, he was right, she couldn’t resist the magic pull she felt from him.  Satisfied that he was about to win that round, he let her go, expecting her to concede, but she stepped towards him, instead of drawing back.  Her hand fell against his chest, but she wasn’t pushing him away, not this time, her fingers were warm as they slid up to brush against the skin of his neck and twist around into his hair.

Stupidly he discounted the heavy feeling in his own body, because she was his enemy and he didn’t like her at all, but it was too late for that, too late for anything, because he’d totally underestimated this strange magic yearning taking hold in himself.  She pressed herself against him, and he barely had time to realise he was in serious trouble before she tugged his face down or maybe he pulled her up to him, but in the end it was all the same, as her mouth slammed into his.

He was lost before it began, he kissed her back furiously, he couldn’t fight the magic or himself, his mind screamed at him to stop, but his arms went around her and the kiss went on and on.  He couldn’t breathe but he didn’t want to, she was poison in his veins, but it didn’t matter, nothing did, except her and now.

His only awareness was the heat of her in his arms, and the fierce softness of her mouth as it moved frantically under his.  His magic engulfed them, hot pressure and passion.  He murmured her name against her lips, his fingers brushing across her face, cupping her head, weaving through the dark silkiness of her hair.  She tugged at his jacket, he helped her take it off, and the material pooled onto the ground, forgotten.  Her hands slipped up beneath his shirt, her fingers stroking against the bare skin of his back, and he trembled as she sighed her satisfaction with her find into his mouth.

Never had something so wrong felt so right.  He couldn’t stop kissing her, he couldn’t get close enough, he slid his arms under the cloak she wore, holding her intimately, shaping her body against him.  How long later it was he didn’t know, but a tiny sane part of his mind suddenly registered that Arthur was calling his name, and the battle between them was over as swiftly as it had begun.

He was across the other side of the tent in an instant, horrified, ashamed and overwhelmed.  He could barely look at her.  He struggled with himself for control and felt the lash of her magic strike him as she fought her own war.  His head reared up, the strike worked better than a bucket of icy water.

He glared at her and said harshly, “Control your magic and emotions or I’ll do it for you, Morgana.”

She returned the serve with her own hostile stare.  He didn’t trust himself to say anything more, he snatched his jacket up off the ground, turned on his heel and stormed out of the tent, almost smacking into Arthur.  He made an enormous effort to rein himself in.  “Arthur.”  His voice was flat, the prince was concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

Merlin glared at the tent, thrusting his arms through his jacket sleeves with sharp, jerky movements.  He said shortly, “Nothing.”

“My Lord?”  Nathaniel was regarding him anxiously, Merlin hadn’t even noticed the druid.  Gwaine and Lancelot were behind him.  Merlin turned away, he’d told Morgana to control herself but the irony was he was barely able to keep himself in check.  He was ready to shatter into a million pieces.  He’d betrayed himself and his principles, how could he?  Witch.  His fists clenched.

The tent flap opened, Morgana walked out.  Merlin’s gaze zoomed in on her, she was back to ice, her hair perfect, like nothing had happened between them, which was just as well because nothing had.  Her eyes met his, and then he noticed her face was still slightly flushed, and the reason for it made him go hot and cold all over.  Her gaze skittered away from him, and shifted past Arthur and the knights, to Nathaniel, and she addressed the chieftain, her voice slightly strained, “Who did you just call My Lord?”

Nathaniel’s brow creased and he glanced across at Merlin nervously, another time Merlin would have been amused, but there was nothing amusing him at all right now.  What was wrong with him?  She was cold and controlled and he was bursting at the seams, this wasn’t how it was meant to be, he wondered if anyone had any idea how close he was to exploding.  She didn’t, but Arthur did;  the prince’s hand found Merlin’s shoulder. 

Nathaniel didn’t want to answer her, Merlin had asked him not to reveal his identity.  Until now, Nathaniel had no idea of any connection between them, but now, given Merlin’s behaviour, Merlin could tell he was uncertain how to proceed.  The druid stumbled, glancing across at Merlin, “Um .... ”  Clearly he didn’t know what to say, whether he was allowed to say Merlin’s name or not.

Merlin’s mouth thinned, and he said flatly, to Morgana, “He means me, Morgana.  _Emrys._ ”

He missed Nathaniel’s relief, and felt rather than saw Morgana’s shock, but he couldn’t process it, he couldn’t take anything else in, because the anger that was building in him was escalating too quickly.  He was angry at her because they’d kissed and she’d made him feel things he didn’t want to feel, angry because she’d chosen the wrong side, angry at himself because he wanted her and hated her all at once, perversely angry at Arthur for interrupting them, angry because he was ready to deal with Morgause _right now without mercy_ and she wasn’t there, and angry at Nathaniel because he was there and witnessing this.  His anger at himself and her and everything else intensified until his head ached with the effort of trying to contain it.

He stared from Nathaniel to Morgana, and something in his face must have been terrible because they both took a step back.  He recognised the look dawning on her face, that same fear she wore when he’d left her in the woods the other day.  The terror of him, the monster.  He was burning, he wanted to make someone else burn, his fingers itched with the urge to do something.  His magic was screaming to be freed.

He focused on Morgana, and threw the words at her in mind speech, the one thing the still-rational part of him knew he could justifiably be angry about.  _“Don’t ever defend Morgause to me again, Morgana!  Tell her!  Tell her if she tempts me again my retribution will be swift!”_   She blanched, and it made him angrier, he released his breath in a furious hiss.

Arthur squeezed his shoulder.  “Merlin?”  There was no response and Arthur said to Gwaine and Lancelot urgently, “Find Iseldir, now.”  One look at Merlin’s face and they disappeared, Merlin barely noticed.  Arthur tugged at him, but Merlin wouldn’t move.

 _“Why must you side with her, Morgana?  Why?”_

He didn’t know if the words were angry or anguished, but the mind speech was far too loud, and she put her hands over her ears, flinching away.  He glared and felt his magic clench, before he knew it he was by her side, his hands on her arms, turning her to him.  “Fight back, Morgana!  Look at me!”

But Arthur hauled him away from her, his fingers digging into his shoulders, and shook him roughly, a warning. “Merlin, stop it!  Now.”

But his eyes were still on her and she didn’t disappoint him.  He watched her, his chest heaving, but then he saw her fear fade like it’d never existed.  Why?  He didn’t understand.  Her face became calm, and she said his name quietly, once, twice.

He stared at her mouth, and swayed unsteadily.  Arthur had pulled him back but she stepped towards him, and then did something that stunned him to stillness.  She stepped right into his personal space again, and said, “Don’t, Merlin, you’re not like this.  This isn’t you.”  Her hands slipped under his jacket, holding him around the hips but demanding nothing in return, she turned her head to the side, away from Arthur, and rested it on his chest, against the rapid pounding of his heart.

He was transfixed, his arms hanging loosely by his side, breathing heavily.  Morgana’s head was resting on his chest, and Arthur hadn’t let him go either.  If he hadn’t been so overwhelmed he would have felt the awkwardness of it all.  He blinked furiously, then Arthur tugged at him, and Morgana dropped her hold and stepped back. 

The prince turned him around, Merlin stumbled.  “Merlin, come on, we’re going for a walk.”  He blindly obeyed the voice of command, and allowed Arthur to take him away from temptation, he didn’t care where they were going, he let Arthur lead, and they strode away until they were further into the woods, away from the tents, alone.

Arthur stopped, his hand still on Merlin’s shoulder.  “What was that about?”

Merlin couldn’t answer, if ever the time was for Arthur to call him a complete idiot, now would be it.  He didn’t know if he could speak.  He was shaking, Arthur stood in front of him and took him by both shoulders.  “Merlin?”

He wrenched away, spinning around, covering his face with his hands.  He was so ashamed.

Arthur’s hand was on his back.  “Stop.  Talk to me.”

His breathing hitched, he felt like he was choking.  “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Merlin, tell me.”

He shook his head, what had he done?  God, what had he _almost_ done?  He didn’t understand himself.  He said to Arthur, “Nothing went as I planned.  I wanted to talk to Morgana, just, you know, _talk_ to her ....  But I was so angry, when I saw her, I always am, we always fight, I don’t know why I thought it could be any different.  But ... I thought I had _control_ ... I had no idea ....” His voice trailed away.

“You fought?”

Merlin laughed, a bitter sound.  “If only that was all we did!  But no, oh we fought of course, but then ....”  He shut his eyes, he couldn’t admit to it this stupid, _stupid_ lapse of judgement.

Arthur had already worked it out, possibly quite some time ago.  “You kissed her.”

The words burst out of him, “That would be an understatement, it was ... mad!  I couldn’t think!  If you hadn’t interrupted us I would have ... _we_ would have ... hell, we were almost there.”  He murmured, almost to himself, “I didn’t realise love and hate are so intertwined.”

Arthur sighed.  “You’re this upset over a _girl_?”

Merlin was incredulous, didn’t Arthur understand?  “It’s _Morgana_ , Arthur!  Have you forgotten she’s tried to kill us all, many times, and probably will again?  And I’ve done the same to her.  It’s so wrong!  _Why did she have to choose Morgause’s side?_ ”

Arthur waited, eventually Merlin sad in a more subdued tone, “I just can’t understand why I did it.  I don’t love her, I don’t even like her any more.”  His hands clenched into fists as he thought of Freya.  “I’m sure I hate her.  But I miss her, I miss the friend she once was.  And I feel so guilty about her ....”

“Perhaps you don’t really hate her, after all?”

“I do!  Don’t you?”

“Sometimes I wish I did.  Sometimes I think I do.  But then I remember what she was like when we were growing up, I can’t so easily write off the person I’ve known most of my life, the Morgana who _was_ good, who I teased and laughed with, who was a friend.”  The prince observed Merlin carefully.  “And I remember how she fought with us at Ealdor, for you.  She cared for us all, once.”

She had, but right now he could barely think of anything except their kiss, it kept playing over and over in his head.  “I kissed her.”  Merlin shuddered.  “And even now I’d do it all over again, I _want_ to do it again.  What’s wrong with me?”  He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head.  “And then later, outside the tent ... _I nearly lost control of my magic, Arthur!_  I haven’t been that close to losing control of it since I killed Nimueh, and I had so much more provocation then!”

“What do you mean?”

Merlin wasn’t listening.  God, the repercussions of either of these situations ... _anything_ could have happened if his magic was out of control, the very thought made him sick with dread, he knew his power was increasing, the consequences of such loss of control could have been disastrous.  He looked up at Arthur, his face tense.  “Don’t ever let me lose control of my magic, Arthur!  I’m too dangerous!”

“I know that, Merlin, you threw your dragon across that field, he told me your magic was out of control when you did that.”

Merlin shook his head, Arthur’s words barely registering.  He didn’t know what was worse, almost losing control of his magic or losing control with Morgana;  the possibility behind those consequences, _god_ , his mind lurched to the ultimate consequence and he imagined a ... _magical baby_ ...  The very thought made him lightheaded with the horror of it all. 

Kilgharrah had told him his future was joined forever with Morgana’s.  Surely he didn’t mean ... because of ... a _baby_?  He thought with a sick kind of faintness that their futures would certainly be joined forever if that was the case.  He hissed through clenched teeth, “That bloody dragon!” 

“What?”

No, what had he said out loud?  Not that completely terrifying ... _b_ -word?  No, he hadn’t said that, it was just dragon frustration again, he hadn’t said anything about a ... his mind skittered around the word ... _baby._   The very word increased his nervous agitation _._   No, no, no!  But hold on, he tried to think rationally, the dragon had been speaking kindly when he’s said their futures were joined, surely he would have been amused if he’d been talking about a child between them.  Or maybe he already knew it and he was being sympathetic.  That damn dragon!  Would he ever give him a straight answer?

He slumped down on a nearby log and tried to pull himself together.  First things first, Arthur would hit him over the head soon if he kept behaving like this ... and oblivion might be a good thing.  No, he had to stop it.

“Merlin?”  He looked up at Arthur, the prince was watching his struggles with a kind of sympathetic amusement, and zeroed in on what was bothering him the most with uncanny accuracy, not something Merlin would have expected from him.  “Don’t worry too much about things with Morgana.  Even after everything, I’m not surprised that the two of you are attracted to each other.  You always were.”

“No we weren’t!”

Arthur gave him a patronising look.  “You were.  And you’re protesting too much.  And now that you both know about each other’s magic, then ...?”

Merlin shook his head and wished he knew a calming spell to try on himself.  Another question for Iseldir.  “It’s only the magic that’s doing this Arthur.  What else could it be?”

“Only you and Morgana can answer that, Merlin.  Be honest with yourself, it’ll be easier in the end.”

“Huh, I’m meant to be the one that gives _you_ advice.  Why are you so calm about this anyway?  She betrayed you.”

“I know, I know she did.  And I’m not that calm.  I guess I need more time to work this all out, what I think of her.  I don’t hate her, not yet.  If she’d succeeding in killing you, Gwen, or my father, I would hate her, I know that much.  But I’m trying to understand her point of view.  And maybe she thinks the same of me; I betrayed her, by not being someone she thought she could trust with her secret – like you.  I don’t know if I can forgive her for killing Camelot’s citizens when the knights wouldn’t submit to her rule.  But then she would see all the persecution of magic users by my father, all those executions, as a betrayal against her by her own flesh and blood over years and years.”  Arthur shook his head.  “It’s complicated, I can’t pretend there’s an easy solution for any of us.”

Merlin sighed.  “I know, there’s not.”  He was quiet for a long moment.  “But that’s not all, my magic Arthur.  I haven’t lost control of it for a long, long time.  I can’t allow myself to ever get out of control.”  He tipped his head back, staring off into the distance.  “I’m afraid of myself, sometimes.  There is a darkness inside me, Arthur.  I have killed, to protect you.  I have no regrets.  I will kill more, if I have to.  But you must curb me.  You must tell me to stop when I go too far.  Don’t let me be a monster without good reason.  Please.”

Arthur crouched down beside him and nodded.  Merlin looked off, back in the direction of the camp.  “We should get back.  I’m sorry ... about all that.  This visit isn’t going too well, is it?”

“It’s alright, Merlin.”

“No, it’s not.  I need to apologise to Nathaniel before he decides Emrys is an unstable monster, and I have to speak with Morgana again, too.”  He fidgeted and said to himself, “But in public, this time.”  He didn’t notice Arthur’s amusement, he said, “I really am sorry.  And we must get back.  Iseldir’s called out to me already, but I haven’t answered.”

Arthur offered him a hand, Merlin took it and Arthur pulled him up.  Arthur gave him a thump on the back.  They retraced their steps back towards the camp, it was almost dark now, and Merlin conjured a floating light, an ethereal blue sphere, to help guide them back.  He held it in front of him, in the palm of his hand at first, then flicked it forwards with his finger so it floated in front of them.

Arthur looked at it, something about it stirred his memory.  “You’ve used that light somewhere before.”

“Hmm?”  Merlin wasn’t really listening, he was trying to work out what he’d say to Morgana.

“The light, Merlin.  I’ve seen it before.”  He remembered.  “Where those spiders were, in the cave, when I was trying to find the Mortaeus flower, when you’d been poisoned.”

Merlin looked at him doubtfully.  “Maybe.” 

Arthur let it go.  They’d reached the camp again now, Merlin turned his head away when they walked past Morgana’s tent.  There were other people around now, some of them were looking at them and the light sphere with curiosity.  Merlin didn’t think it was that unusual, but he made it disappear, he didn’t want any attention. 

Arthur led the way back to Nathaniel’s tent, the chieftain was sitting around the campfire again with Iseldir, Gwaine, Lancelot and a few other druids Merlin hadn’t met.  Merlin made a point of walking straight across to Nathaniel, and said directly, “I’m sorry, for my behaviour back there.”  Nathaniel nodded, the slight wariness in his eyes receding.  Merlin sighed and sat down on the log beside him, the druid moved over to make space.  “I suppose you realise there’s some history between myself and Morgana.  It was wrong of me to show anger to you.  I was angry with myself more than anything, and certainly not with you.” 

The chieftain gave him a rueful smile and said quietly, “You’re fearsome when angered, Emrys.  Your power is great.  And love too, is a force to be reckoned with.”  Nathaniel hesitated then said intently to him, “It’s an emotion that has the power to create great change.  It will transform an enemy into a friend.  Never underestimate what it can do.”

Merlin was unsettled by the remarks.  However he wasn’t going to argue about it, or even discuss it.  “Uh, right.”  He hoped no one else had heard.  He chanced a sneaky glance around, Arthur was on the other side of the campfire, talking to a grey-haired old woman, the one he’d seen before, the one who he thought recognised who he was.

“Who’s that?”  He drew Nathaniel’s attention in Arthur’s direction. 

The druid passed him a cup of hot tea.  “That’s Thea, our most talented healer.  Morgana’s sister, Morgause, owes her life to her.  Thea’s healing magic, combined with her talents with herbal remedies, makes her one of the most knowledgeable healers throughout Camelot and the neighbouring kingdoms.”

Nathaniel lowered his voice.  “Thea’s magic is strong, she’s one who recognised you as Emrys.  I’m afraid I didn’t see her in time to stop her mentioning your visit to one or two people.  I’m sorry.”

Merlin stared down at the liquid in his cup.  That may explain how Morgana had known of Emrys’s presence.  He said ,“It’s alright.”

Despite his barely buttoned down agitation, the druid camp fascinated him, he’d never seen so many people with magic in one area at once.  Not that they all had magic, it was clear to him that many didn’t have magic or had so little they’d barely be able to make a leaf float on a windy day.  He said to Nathaniel, “Not all your people have magic, do they?”

Nathaniel shook his head.  “No.  Many of course come to us because of their gifts, but others are here because they come with family or friends who have magic.  Others still, prefer the nomadic lifestyle over living in towns, or find their acceptance of magic and the benefits it brings wouldn’t be tolerated anywhere else.  We don’t turn away any who who come to us, but all must abide by our rules.”

He said to Merlin, “Some druid clans aggressively make war with non-magical groups, but peace and tolerance is very important to us.  We trade with nearby farmers, and occasionally buy supplies in Camelot.”  He lowered his voice.  “Iseldir and your friends just told me about Morgana and Morgause’s attack on Camelot.  I’m sorry.”

Merlin sighed.  “Yes.”  He put his empty cup on the ground, he’d felt in a shift in the air that told him Morgana wasn’t far away.  “How healed is Morgause, Nathaniel?”

Nathaniel stretched out his legs.  “Physically, she’s almost fully recovered.”

Merlin said bluntly, “And what of her magical abilities?”

“I don’t know for certain, Emrys, but her magic feels very weakened to me.  I haven’t seen her use much magic at all here.  In fact I haven’t seen her much at all, she was too ill to leave her tent for some time, and now she’s gone off somewhere.”

Merlin nodded, Iseldir has essentially told him the same thing.  “Yes.”  His eyes searched the crowd, he saw Morgana approaching the healer, Thea.  Arthur had sat down with Gwaine.  Merlin watched the two women for a moment and he said a name calmly, in mind speech, _“Morgana.”_

She turned around to face him, and he knew enough from her posture to guess she was defensive again.  He sighed and said, _“I’m sorry.  And I don’t want to fight any more, tonight.  Will you come here, and talk to me?”_

She stared at him, but her eyes were unreadable across the campfire in the darkness.

He waited.

 


	17. Chapter 17

Merlin saw her hesitate for a long moment, then she said something to Thea and began to walk towards him.  He stood up, aware that Thea had also turned to look at him, her gaze watchful.

Morgana was still wearing the tan cloak he’d had his arms under earlier, but the hair that he’d run his fingers through had been tidied up into a neat braid.  He said again, _“Morgana?  Please.”_

Her eyes dropped away from his but she took a few steps towards him.  He met her half-way, he touched her back briefly and she followed him a little away from the others.

He waved his hand at a large, unoccupied log.  “Will you sit down?”

She nodded so he sat down on the ground, and leant his back against the log, stretching his legs out to the warmth of the campfire.  He gave her a questioning look, she sat down beside him, wrapping her cloak around her, careful to keep a distance between them.

“Truce, Morgana?  Just for tonight, at least?”  She nodded again but still didn’t speak, and he said in a low voice, “Can you only talk to me if we’re fighting?”

She turned to him then, her eyes wary.  “I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s probably the most honest thing you’ve said to me in more than a year.”

Her eyes flashed a warning, he put up his hand.  “No, please, I’m sick of fighting with you, Morgana.  Why did it go so wrong?”  No one was close enough to overhear their conversation but he still spoke quietly.

She was aware of the eyes too.  She stared into the campfire.  “You started it.  You poisoned me, Merlin.  I thought you were my friend, and you tried to kill me!”

There was anger in her voice, but he heard her hurt too, and it stirred the guilt in his heart.  He wanted to reach out and touch her but he didn’t dare.  “I know.  I know, Morgana.  And I am so sorry for it.  You know why I did, but I shouldn’t have, I should have found some other way.”

She didn’t look at him, she leant forward, shoulders hunched, and said flatly, “But you did, didn’t you.”

He was restless, so was she.  He yanked up a blade of grass and twisted it in his fingers.  “I’ll always wonder if you would have stayed with us, if I’d told you about my magic, back then.  But I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

“No.”  She was short.  “I have Morgause, now.”

He shook his head.  “Turn away from her, Morgana.  You gave her your trust when you barely knew her.  I want to help you.”

“It’s too late for that, Merlin.  I don’t need your help.  We’ve chosen our paths, and they go in different directions.”

He said bluntly, “They don’t have to.”  She was silent.  He leant forward, and she turned to him, her eyes were hooded.  “I know you don’t understand this thing between us, Morgana.  That kiss ...”  He hesitated, and the tip of her tongue darted out nervously to moisten her lips, he had to look away.  “But it’d be wrong for both of us, and it would complicate things too much.  Give me a second chance.  Talk to me, please.”

She wouldn’t give him an answer, she picked at her cloak, worrying the edges of it between her fingers.  His eyes watched the movement and deliberately he reached out and placed his hand over hers.  Something in him calmed as she allowed the contact. 

“I know why there’s this attraction between us, Morgana, but you don’t.”  He leant back against the log again, taking her hand with him, ignoring the set of her shoulders.  “When you fell down the stairs that time ago you were badly injured, Gaius said you were dying.”  He didn’t want to, but he had to say it.  “I knew you were a danger to Arthur, and to Camelot, so I didn’t want to heal you, but I did.  I wasn’t going to do it, but Arthur, Gwen, Uther, everyone – they loved you, they were devastated.”  He saw her stiffen, he knew his words were harsh.

He continued, “I used an enchantment to heal you that came out of the very beginnings of the old religion.  Magic was different then.  The spell was ... unusual.  And it had an effect I didn’t know about until very recently.  My magic is still inside you, it hasn’t gone away.  That’s why we’re so attracted to each other, we’re linked together by it.”  He stopped, maybe _that_ was what Kilgharrah meant, he should be relieved that’s all it was.

She pulled her hand away. “You didn’t want to heal me?  You were going to let me die?”

“Yes.”  He didn’t move.

She looked at him then, her face bitter.  “You tell me this, and think I can just get over it?  That I’ll forgive you, for any of it?”

“Don’t put all this back on me, Morgana!  You’ve tried to kill me, and Arthur, and destroy Camelot, many, many times.  You were going to kill me when you came to Camelot last week!  Be thankful that you still have your life!”

She was a bit subdued at that and he continued, “And that’s not all of it.  I’ll tell you the rest.  My magic inside you?  You can’t control it, yet I can.  It’s stronger than yours, much stronger.  I could direct it to quash yours with barely a thought.  I haven’t yet, but I could.  I can track you, wherever you go, with it.  And we already know, if you’re near me and I let you sense my magic you can’t keep your hands off me.”

The fire burst out, “I’ll never touch you again!”

“Really?  I don’t believe you.  Never is a long, long time.”  He smiled into her angry face, watching her struggle, her eyes were swirling gold, her magic reacting to her emotions.  “You’re so fiery Morgana, why can’t you channel that passion into something good?”

“I hope you don’t mean you!”

He laughed, genuinely amused. “No, that’s not what I meant.”  He smiled again to himself, and stretched his arm out behind her on the log and gave her a speculative look.  “I didn’t mean that at all.  Interesting that you thought of it, though.”

Instantly he knew he’d gone too far, she glared and moved to get up, he grabbed at her, one hand on her waist and the other closing over her elbow.  “Okay, okay.  I know, I said I didn’t want to fight.  And I don’t.  But I enjoy it sometimes, you react so beautifully.”

He cheated just a little and allowed a wisp of his magic to escape, he didn’t know if that helped his cause or not as she was still clearly annoyed with him.  But the main thing was that she didn’t leave, and she sat back down beside him.

He let her go and she folded her arms in front of herself defensively.  “Fine, Merlin.  What are we going to talk about?  I’ve tried to kill you, you’ve tried to kill me.  Now what?”

He turned to face her, propping his elbow on the log and resting his head on a hand.  “Why didn’t you go with Morgause, when she went off on her search for Emrys?”

She hadn’t been expecting the question, and didn’t want to answer, she shrugged.

He asked, “Was it because I’d frightened you?  Or something else?”

“I don’t really know you, do I Merlin?”

“I’m sorry.  But you’ve got to understand why I did it.”

She shook her head.  “I don’t.  I don’t have to understand anything about you.”

“But I want you to.  I don’t want to hurt you anymore, I don’t want you to be my enemy.  I just want my friend back.”

He understood that he’d need to be the one to offer trust first, to take the lead in any attempt for reconciliation between them.  She’d never come to him unasked, she was too damaged, and it wasn’t her nature anymore to take such a personal risk with someone, especially him.  And he knew it wasn’t the time for being cautious and tentative around her either, he had to be honest about what needed from her.  He hoped by prodding her into discussing her feelings with him she may be open to the idea of change, instead of just blindly holding on to her hostility, her pain, and her fear.

He said quietly to her profile, “I miss you.  I betrayed you, I know I did.  And I’m sorry for it.  I can’t bear what we’ve become to each other.  And I want to try again.”

She flicked a glance at him then looked down at her lap for a long moment.  Then she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.  “Okay then.  You want to know why I didn’t go?  You did scare me, I’d never seen that side of you.  That was a reason I didn’t go with Morgause.”  She wasn’t looking at him.  “But Thea didn’t want me to go either, she really cares for me, I haven’t known her that long but she’s so good to me.  She argued with Morgause, she didn’t think either of us should go.”

She stopped, and he put his hand on her back in a brief touch for a few heartbeats, then he dropped the contact.  “I appreciate you telling me that, Morgana.”  He knew it couldn’t be easy for her to be even the smallest bit open with him.

But she bowed her head, and said in a voice almost tinged with regret, “It’s too late to do this, Merlin.  I don’t trust you. We _are_ enemies now.”

“No!”  He shook his head, refuting her words.  “I won’t accept that!  And I know you, I know you better than Morgause, she sees only the worst in you, and that’s all she wants.  But I know you all, I’ve seen your darkness as well as the part of you that’s good and kind, Morgana.  You don’t have to pretend with me, I’ve seen you all.”

“Maybe what you call my worst is what I want!”

“I don’t believe you!  Why did you pick this druid clan to stay with, Morgana?  They’re peaceful, they’re not full of hate.  Don’t tell me it was because Morgause was too injured to travel any further, you could have gone elsewhere if you wanted, they would have helped, they’re magic users, it would’ve been possible!  But this clan is not like that, and either are you!  Their magic is –“  He hesitated, he hadn’t meant to say too much about what he’d sensed magically in the camp.  “They’re peaceful, they’re kind to others.”

She’d turned to stare at him, her expression giving nothing away, and he continued, “You know I wouldn’t have come running after you trying to kill you if all you’d done was search for Emrys, you weren’t threatening what I protect again.  Not to mention Emrys, if he hadn’t been me, might have protected you from me, if you know what I mean.  Isn’t that what Morgause is after?”

His mouth quirked but she didn’t respond, and he added quietly, “But you didn’t go, you didn’t want to, and it wasn’t because I’d terrified you, it was because you didn’t want to go!  There’s still a goodness in you, Morgana, I know it, I believe in you.”

She’d turned her face away, and the set of her shoulders spoke of her distress.  She shook her head.  “I had no one else to turn to Merlin, only her.”

His failure to save her crashed through him again, and he took a gamble, shifting closer to her, and before she could protest he put an arm around her shoulders and tugged her against his side.  She stiffened, but he didn’t let go.  He made himself relax beside her and felt her slowly do the same, she was allowing him some physical intimacy with her, and he wondered if he could push it further.  He decided to try, even if it was just to test her reaction, and he bent his head down and when she raised her own he pressed his mouth briefly to her forehead.

She gave him an unreadable look.  “Judas kiss, Merlin?”

He flashed her an easy grin, then turned sombre.  “No, it’s not.  I won’t betray you again, if you’ll give me your trust, Morgana, and do what’s kind and good.”

He knew she was unsure.  She’d tensed when he’d kissed her forehead, but when he did nothing else and still seemed determined to keep his arm around her shoulders her tension decreased.  He didn’t speak, he just let her become accustomed to their physical contact.  He tried to see her face but she’d turned her head, and a strand of hair had escaped her braid, hiding her expression.  He found himself reaching across and tucking her hair back behind her ear, and when she looked up at him questioningly he shifted awkwardly, and dropped his hand.

But she didn’t move away, she stayed leaning into him, the side of her body pressed up against his.  He told himself the odd sensation in his chest was just relief he felt at their ceasefire, nothing more.  She asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about your magic, when I was struggling with mine?  Why didn’t you help me?”

He could only give her a partial answer to that.  He knew he couldn’t tell her about the path Kilgharrah said she’d follow, the one she was on even now.  “I helped you as much as I could, Morgana.  I took you to the druids, I kept your secret, even from Arthur, right to the end.”

“But that was because he wouldn’t have believed you, if you’d told him.”

“Yes, that’s true.”  Partly, anyway.  He thought further.  “You asked why I didn’t tell you of my magic back then;  isn’t it obvious?  You were the king’s ward, I was a servant, I could never let you have the power of that knowledge over me, particularly with Uther on the throne.  I’ve had magic since I was born, but until recently those who knew of it I could number on one hand.”

“You’re lucky that Arthur supported you, Merlin.  He never would’ve done that for me.”

He heard the sadness she couldn’t quite disguise.  “He loved you, Morgana.  If he can cope with me having magic he certainly wouldn’t have rejected you.  I don’t know why I didn’t see that in him, back when things between you and us were not so bad.  Your magic wasn’t something you could help, you didn’t seek it out, it sought you, it chose you.  Yet I don’t really understand how easily he’s accepted magic in me.”

“He’s your friend.”  She hesitated.  “And maybe he is different to Uther.”

“He is, Morgana!”

Merlin glanced across the campfire at Arthur.  He was sitting beside Nathaniel again now, the two of them were talking with animation on some subject, they both seemed to be in good spirits.  Maybe they were building their own links, the relationship between future king and druid chieftain.  He hoped so.

Merlin changed the subject, he had to discuss what he wanted to do, with her.  “But now, Morgana, please listen.  There’s something I want to do.  If you let me, I can mix my magic inside you, with yours, and release my control of it.  It’ll be a way out of this connection with me.  But there’s a price to pay.”

She sat up, her eyes were wary again.  “I know we don’t trust each other, Morgana, there’s too much that’s happened between us for that at present.  But if you agree to this, you must trust me.  I’ll tell you what I can do.”

He waited, she placed a hand over his, a tentative peace offering.  He took it.  “I can let go of my hold on my magic, that’s inside you.  I can give it to you, to control.  It’s very powerful, Morgana, it’s a mixture of my own magic as well as the beginnings of the old religion.”

“Why would I _not_ want it, then?  You’re offering me more magic.”

“But you see, there’s a catch.  It’s magic for healing, Morgana.  That’s all it will ever be able to do, within you.  If you agree to this, I know you’ll eventually become the greatest healer of all time.  You can choose the right path, one that doesn’t hurt people.  You could do so much good!”  She was listening, and he continued.  “But it will dominate your other magic, it won’t add to it.  As your healing magic strengthens, you may well become weaker in other areas of magic.  As time passes, your abilities as a seer may even decrease, although I don’t know this for sure.”

She was considering it, but he didn’t know what she was thinking.  He stroked her fingers.  “Morgana, you must let go of your hate, your drive to dominate, your thirst for revenge.  Healing magic will never work for you, if you are like that.  Don’t allow yourself to become so bitter and twisted that it consumes you.  That’s no life.  Revenge is a poison meant for others that we end up ingesting ourselves.” 

He reached up to brush her face.  “You could be a great healer, Morgana.  Take this opportunity to do good.”  He as careful not to mention Morgause, he didn’t want her to chose between them yet, because he wouldn’t win.  Morgana’s loyalties would fall back to her sister, it was ingrained in her at present, but if he showed trust and faith in her again, he believed there was still a chance.

He had to believe it, it was all he had.  “Please say yes.  Please take this option.  Don’t back me into a corner and make me do something to you that I don’t want to do.  I can’t allow you to continue to threaten Arthur and Camelot.  Please Morgana, choose your destiny, do what’s right.”

She was silent for a long while, looking intently into his eyes.  Then her gaze flittered away and she asked quietly, “What will happen to this connection between us?”

He was surprised, it wasn’t a question he was expecting.  “I don’t really know but I think it’ll decrease in its intensity, it may disappear.  You’re attracted to me now, because your magic recognises mine as its own.  And the magic I have inside me reaches to that which is in you.”  He laced his fingers through hers, it was the magic pull, he couldn’t help it.  Just talking about it made him want to touch her again, it was an odd compulsion.

“Morgana, regardless of what happens, I still want to see you.  I want to see if we can be friends again, like we once were.  You can never come to Camelot, you know that, don’t you?  Not after what happened.  I’ll visit you here, if you’ll let me?”

“What about Morgause?”

“Morgana ... what I told you before hasn’t changed.  You’re going to have to choose between us and her, but not yet.  I’m not asking you to make that choice, not yet.  But give me a chance.”

“What will you do to her?”

“I’ve told you already.  If she threatens what I protect, I’ll take any measures necessary to deal with her.”

“Are you that dedicated to Arthur and Camelot that you’d force yourself to try and be friends with me, just to keep an eye on me?”

“It’s not like that, Morgana, you know that.  I can’t pretend that things are going to suddenly be just fine, between us.  I don’t trust you with Arthur, I know he won’t hurt you but I don’t trust you with him.  But I want you to remember the good times we’ve had with you.  Forget Uther, it doesn’t have to be about him any more.  Remember all the good times we had together – you, me, Arthur and Gwen.  I want to re-establish that between you and me.”

“Just between us?  What about the others?”

“Not yet.  Let’s see how we handle each other first, huh?”

“You mean see if I try and kill you and plot against Arthur?”

He smiled.  “Something like that.”  He let her hand go.  “Will you think about it, Morgana?”  She nodded.  “Then go and get some sleep now, huh?”  It was late, while they’d been talking Nathaniel and most of the other druids had disappeared, presumably into their tents for the night.  Arthur was still on the far side of the campfire, talking to Thea again.  Lancelot and Gwaine were already lying down on their sleeping rolls in front of the fire, although neither were asleep.

After she’d left, Merlin grabbed his pack from beside Lancelot and spread his bedroll out near the fire.  He was prepared for some teasing or even distaste and anger from his friends about Morgana, but all Lancelot did was tap him on the ankle and tell him to “Take care of yourself, Merlin."

Gwaine either half-asleep or intoxicated and mumbled something about ogres chasing wyverns who were eating purple chickens.

Thea left as Morgana did, and Arthur dumped his own bedroll down near Merlin.

The prince hunkered down beside him.  “You alright, Merlin?”

“Yeah.  I think so.”

He didn’t want to talk, and Arthur didn’t press him, instead he threw him an extra blanket. “From Nathaniel.”

 


	18. Chapter 18

Merlin didn’t know how long he’d been asleep when he felt a hand touching his back.  He jerked awake and sat up, only to find Morgana crouching down beside him.  He blinked, and mumbled groggily, “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, her hair falling down like a screen, covering her face.  “Nothing.  Just a dream.”

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, he glanced across at Arthur and saw he’d also stirred.  The prince gave Merlin a slight nod and turned away.

Merlin grunted, still half-asleep.  “A dream of things to come?”  She nodded, her hair shimmering, and he asked, “You want to tell me about it?”

“No.”  She was quiet, the dream had been about him and her, of a future she’d never imagined.  It left her unsettled and also with a strong urge to see him, regardless of the time of night.

His voice was husky with sleep.  “Uh, do you want to stay here, with me?”

She nodded, and wordlessly he flipped open the blanket, offering her the space beside him nearest the fire.  She climbed over him and laid down, her head on his outstretched arm, he covered them both with the blanket and settled down on his back.  He was too tired to think about why she was here, he decided for now just to accept it unquestioned.  She rolled over onto her side, facing him, resting her head against his chest, her hand on his stomach.

He stroked her hair absently for a moment.  “Then go to sleep, Morgana.”

Strangely, she did go to sleep, fairly quickly too.  She relaxed against him, her body grew heavier and her breathing gradually deepened.  But now, despite his own tiredness, it took him a while to drop off again, the strange intimacy of the situation wasn’t lost on him.  What they were doing now was as intimate as when they were kissing, perhaps more even more so.  Only couples in relationships slept in each other’s arms, and that was as far as he could get as a description of where him and Morgana were up to, they weren’t even friends.  And he couldn’t even imagine holding a friend while they slept, not like this, it crossed over personal space boundaries.

Yet here she was asleep, snuggled up against him, and he didn’t mind, he liked it, he realised he liked it a lot.

He found himself reaching out and touching her face, his fingers stroking back and forth across the smooth skin of her cheek.  Why had she really sought him out?  Was she beginning to trust him so quickly, despite the constant conflict between them?  It didn’t seem possible.  Was it the magic pull between them interfering again?  Was she going to give him a chance to mend this? 

He fell asleep with his mind turning over possibilities, and when he woke up the next morning to the dying embers of the campfire he was alone on the bedroll.  It took him a moment to remember Morgana, when he did he sat up abruptly, only to be surprised,  because she had a blanket around her shoulders and was sitting not far away ... beside Arthur.  Both of them looked awkward but at least there was no overt hostility.

He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  Lancelot and Gwaine weren’t awake, and no one else was up yet.  The early morning had a crisp freshness about it, and it was chilly.  Merlin threw a few more logs onto the campfire, using a twist of magic to stir up the flames again. 

A pot of tea was leftover from last night but it was cold, Merlin poured some into a cup and concentrated for a moment.  He held it up to Arthur.  “Want some?  It’s hot now.”

The prince arched an eyebrow but reached out for the cup, Merlin did the same for Morgana then himself.  Arthur and Morgana moved apart, Merlin sat down on the log between them and they all sat in silence for a while, sipping the hot drinks.

Then Morgana spoke, her voice quiet in the still morning air, she didn’t want to wake the others.  “I’ve decided, Merlin.”  He turned to her, twisting the mug in his fingers.  “My answer is yes, I want you to mix the magic.  But my reasons aren’t the same as yours.  You think you’ll change me, but I’m doing it because I want to be the best at something, and you’re giving me that chance.  I saw what Thea did for Morgause, and I want that knowledge too.”

Merlin took another sip of the steaming tea.  “That’s okay.  Our reasons may not be the same but the end result will be.”

She shook her head.  “I can’t promise either of you anything.”  Her glance took in Arthur too.

The prince placed his cup on the ground.  “It’ll do for now, won’t it Merlin?”

By way of answer Merlin reached across to Morgana and picked up her hand, holding it loosely.  “I’ll need Thea present while we do this.  Can you find her, and we’ll meet you both in your tent in, say, two hours?”

Morgana nodded, Merlin let go of her hand and she stood up.  She handed him the cup and shook off the blanket and said awkwardly, “I’d better go.  Um, thanks for the tea.”  She left the blanket on the log.

Merlin watched her go then looked down at his hands.  “I hope we’re doing the right thing with her, Arthur.”

“I know.  But what else could you do?”

Merlin bit his lip.  “Nothing good, nothing that I haven’t already thought of.  I could control her using the magic link but that would destroy her in the end, at least, it would if someone was doing the same to me, eroding my free will.  And I’m not sure how long I could sustain that sort of magic, it would become more difficult over time.  I want to believe in her.  I won’t be the instrument of her death, I just can’t.  And the only other option is to do nothing at all, but that would be mad.  It has to be this way.”

“I’m relieved you got her to agree.  She’s still my sister, even after all this.”

“I hope it works, and I don’t mean the magic, that’ll work.  But I hope it gives her a new focus.  And she’ll need to stay with the druids for this, the continual contact with them and the fact that they’re peaceful may weaken her ties to Morgause.  Did you talk to her much, before I was awake?”

“It was awkward.  What about you?  You don’t seem so ....”  Arthur searched around for the right word but didn’t really find it, “... grumpy with her, like you were yesterday.  What’s going on between the two of you?”

Merlin fidgeted uncomfortably.  “I don’t know.”  His head dropped down and his fingers pulled at a loose piece of bark on the log.  It broke off and he began to pull it apart into smaller pieces.  He continued quietly, “I really don’t know.  I started on this path with her because I didn’t want to have to kill her.  I hadn’t expected to be attracted to her, but I am, and I honestly don’t know if all this attraction is derived only from the magic we share, or if it’s more than that.  But now ...”

He hesitated.  “I didn’t think dealing with her would be so complicated, it’s more difficult that I realised.  I don’t know if it’s because I made such a huge mistake when I didn’t help her properly, when I could have.  Or maybe it’s more.  I don’t know.  I need to get this right, with her.  I want her friendship and trust again, I guess.  I want her to be good.”

Arthur nodded and said quietly, “I can understand it, I want that too.”

Merlin stared into the fire, planning ahead.  “Um, one thing.  I need to take the shields off the three of you before I do this to her, my magic may go a little odd.  Not that you’ve needed them anyway.”

“Odd?” 

“Yeah.  I’m changing a lot of magic - mine, hers, the beginnings of the old religion, and ...” he paused.  “And I think there’s even a smidgeon of dragon magic in there, it’s difficult to say whether part of what I’m sensing in her is mine or Kilgharrah’s.  I’m bonded with Kilgharrah so I can’t tell the difference between it.  But it was his enchantment I used to save her that created this link, even if it came from the beginnings of the old religion.”

“You’re bonded with the dragon?”

“As much as I’m bonded with you, Arthur.  My father told me before he died that my souls and Kilgharrah’s were brothers.  We’re kin, because I’m a dragonlord and because we’re both creatures of magic.  And the link I share with you is embedded in destiny’s plans and shaped by fate, it’s no less strong, except when you’re being a prat.”

“Hey!”  Arthur gave him a punch on the arm and Merlin grinned.

“Look, you wanted me to explain.  You can call me a girl, but the thing is you’re both as much a part of me as an arm or leg, or my heart.  I couldn’t do without either of you.  I’ve noticed I don’t like being separated from Kilgharrah for too long either, the connection I have with him is growing stronger.  I haven’t had time to test that out with you, though, since we’re always around each other.”

Arthur looked at his friend.  “I won’t call you a girl.”

Merlin smiled back.  “Thanks.” 

 

******************

Two hours later they were back under the oak tree, outside Morgana’s tent, listening to the quiet voices coming from Morgana and Thea inside.  Merlin leant back against the tree, hoping he was ready for this.

He would’ve liked to talk about the method of making the actual mix with Kilgharrah first, but he had no doubt the dragon would advise him not to do it in the first instance, his constant refrains were always about hastening Morgana’s demise.  So rather than arguing about it with Kilgharrah, then facing his wrath once his advice had been ignored and it was done, Merlin thought it’d be better to present it as a fait accompli, at least he’d only get in trouble once that way.

And it would be some of the most difficult magic he’d performed, and to do it correctly, he’d need Morgana to totally open her mind to him, and he didn’t know if she’d really be capable of doing it. 

Arthur broke him out of his reverie.  “Ready?”

Merlin bit his lip and nodded, and Arthur called out to let them know they were here.  Morgana opened the flap, and her eyes went past Arthur to him.  He cleared his throat nervously and followed Arthur in, standing still for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust after the brighter light outside. 

Thea was seated on Morgause’s bed, when they entered she smiled at Arthur and stood and turned to Merlin.  “Emrys, we haven’t met yet, but I’ve heard much about you, particularly from these two here.”

Despite himself, Merlin smiled.  “Don’t believe everything they tell you, Thea.”

“Your prince speaks highly of you.”

Arthur gave him a light punch on the arm.  “I just didn’t tell her the bad bits.”

Merlin rubbed his arm.  “Thanks, but Morgana probably covered that.”  He watched Morgana clasp her hands in front of her and avoid his attempt at eye contact, and all at once he relaxed.  He reached out and tugged one of her hands into his, driven to touch her again, the magic made her irresistible.  “Come on, Morgana.”  He smiled down at her, amused.  “I hope Thea doesn’t mean you couldn’t think of _anything_ nice to say about me?”

“Well ...”  Cautiously, she returned his smile, and unable to stop himself he bent down and brushed his lips over hers in a brief salute.  He watched satisfied, as her eyes darkened and she swayed towards him, her gaze fixed on his mouth.

His grin widened and she suddenly seemed to realise what she was doing.  She gave him a slightly accusing frown, and he took a step back, giving her some space but still holding her hand.  “Morgana, what have you told Thea about what’s happening here today?”

Thea didn’t wait for Morgana to answer.  “Nothing much, Emrys.  Just that you were going to perform some sort of magic on her that you may need my help with?”

She’d made it a question and Merlin answered, “I won’t need your help with the magic, but I wanted you here because Morgana will need you, afterwards.”  Both women looked at him questioningly at that, and Merlin said, “Thea, I’ll explain from the beginning.”  He paused to organise his thoughts.  “Some time ago, when Morgana was living at Camelot, she fell down a set of stairs.  She was badly injured, with bleeding to her cranium.  Our physician Gaius said she wouldn’t survive.”

Thea’s face showed surprise.  “Gaius?  Gaius still lives?  He’s still in Camelot?”

Arthur answered, “Yes.  You know him then?”

Thea nodded, her face taking on a far-away expression.  “It has been many years, too many.”  She said to Arthur directly, “I knew who you were, before you told me.  But I don’t hold you responsible for the sins of your father.”  Her eyes took in Morgana too.  “I already know you’re quite different to him.  And Gaius helped me escape Camelot in the Great Purge, I owe him my life.”

Merlin nodded.  “There are many who do.”  He hesitated for a moment.  “He’s my mentor, Thea.  I live with him.”

Thea tucked back a strand of her grey hair over her ear.  “He’s a kind man.”

Morgana had turned her head away, Merlin sighed as she tugged her hand out of his grasp.  He watched her carefully, but he couldn’t see her face any longer.  He said to Thea, “Morgana fell down the stairs, she was dying.  I healed her using magic from the beginnings of the old religion, going right back almost to its creation.”  He’d already decided he wasn’t going to mention Kilgharrah’s part in this.

“It was a powerful spell, and my magic and that power are still inside her, but they’re untapped, Morgana can’t access them.  I’m going to release the block on it and mix it with her magic.  The power is purely healing magic and nothing else, but it’s strong, and it means with training and guidance she has the potential to be the most powerful healer known.  That’s where you come in Thea, I want you to train and guide her.”

He didn’t say so, but Merlin had carefully pushed out his own magical senses to Thea when she’d been talking to Arthur yesterday.  He believed she was good and kind, but importantly possessed of a quiet, inner strength that would be necessary for her to be able to successfully train and protect Morgana.  And he was sure Morgana trusted her too, which was equally important.

Thea answered, “I’ve never heard of such a thing, or one who had the power to wield such a transformation.”

Merlin heard the uncertainty in the old woman’s voice but he wasn’t looking at her, he was watching Morgana.  She’d turned her back to them now and taken a step away, she was holding herself carefully, her arms crossed over her chest, and Merlin knew she was upset, but he didn’t know why.

He glanced at Arthur, but the prince hadn’t noticed anything amiss.  Merlin took three quick steps across the tent and placed his hands on Morgana’s shoulders.  “Morgana?”  He said her name quietly, relieved when she didn’t pull away from him, but the tension in her shoulders increased. 

She spoke quietly.  “Morgause wouldn’t want me to do this.  She wouldn’t want me to have anything to do with you, Merlin.  She’d never trust you.  And she’s my sister, she’s looked after me, she cured me when you poisoned me, I shouldn’t do this.”

Merlin shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him.  “She’s used you for her own ends, Morgana.  And it’s not about her, it’s about you.  Don’t back out now, we’ve been through this.”

He tugged at her gently but she wouldn’t turn around to him, so he moved in front of her, wrapping one of his arms around her and holding her tightly against his chest, cupping his other hand on the back of her head.  She didn’t try to pull away, instead she leant her head against his chest.  He brushed her hair with his fingers, in soothing, repetitive strokes, like a parent calming a child.

“I don’t like feeling this way.  It makes me feel weak.”

He said in a low voice, “You’re not weak, Morgana.  You’re one of the strongest people I know.  You stood up to Uther even when you suffered for it, and once you cared so much about doing what was right and fighting for those who had no voice.  That person is still inside you, I know it.”  He smiled at her, dimples creasing.  “You’re fiery and opinionated, you can beat me in a sword fight, you’ve never been weak.”

She’d stretched up to listen to him, if he dipped his head her mouth would be only inches away from his.  He tried not to think about it.

“It doesn’t take much to beat you in combat Merlin, whether you’re armed or not.”  Merlin grinned and she said quietly to him, “I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know what to think.  I hated you a week ago and now everything is so confusing.  Why are you so gentle with me, Merlin?  Why, after everything that’s happened, after what I’ve done?”

Merlin had forgotten about their audience.  He held her close and touched his forehead to hers.  “I want to help you.  I care about you.”  Her hand reached up and brushed his face.  He murmured nonsensically to her, “Maybe there can be magic, without magic, Morgana.” 

She met his eyes, he saw the flecks of gold in hers and his magic pulsed erratically in response.  His fingers brushed the line of her jaw, the rough calluses on his hands tracing over her soft skin.  He found himself admiring the shape of her collar bones, he had to touch them too, and he did, first with the tips of his fingers, and then he found himself following that same path with his mouth.

He heard her sigh, and he raised his head, watching as her eyes fluttered shut.  He gathered her to him, reaching for her, and her lips parted under his.  He kissed her slowly, making no demands, he kept his desire carefully banked, it wasn’t what she was seeking.  He didn’t care about logic and being sensible, or the reasons he shouldn’t do this, he didn’t want to think anymore at all, he just wanted her, and now she was here.  He didn’t understand himself, or her, but he was too caught up in what was happening for anything to matter except what they were doing right now.

He held her close, tangling his fingers in her hair as he deepened their kiss, and her arms circled around his neck as she relaxed into his embrace.  She wanted comfort and reassurance and he gave it to her, letting this moment between them say what words could not.  It was tender and gentle this time, it was about healing their rift, he wanted to forget all the anger, betrayal and hurt that simmered between them.

She sighed into his mouth, loose limbed and calm, and he broke their kiss reluctantly, not keen to test his control too far and have it spiral away from him again.  His eyes stayed shut and he tucked her head against his neck, one arm still around her.  He took her hand, twining her fingers through his and holding her palm against his chest. 

Arthur’s voice interrupted them.  “You’ve got it bad, you both have.”

As one, they turned to look at the prince, Merlin blinked, half-dazed, he’d forgotten all about Arthur and Thea.  He felt his face redden but he didn’t let Morgana go, and she said, “Your sense of timing hasn’t improved Arthur.  You always were as subtle as a sledgehammer.”

Arthur looked at her quizzically for a moment, then gave a chuff of laughter.  “I guess so.  Now, are you both ready or should Thea and I come back in a few hours?”

Merlin rubbed the bridge of his nose awkwardly and cleared his throat, making a concerted effort to squash the disconcerting emotions inside him.  “Um, I’m ready.  What about you, Morgana?”

She looked at him seriously for a long moment, then nodded.  “Yes.”

Merlin was back to business.  “Alright.”  He took a step back from Morgana, needing the distance, but kept hold of her hand.  “You’ll need to lie down, this sort of magic will take you a while to get used to, I expect you’ll lose consciousness when I first release it.  But you’ll be okay.”

He turned to Thea.  “Thea, I’ll need you to look after her as she recovers.  She’ll have difficulty controlling the magic at first, you’ll have to help her, I can’t be here all the time for that, and I’m not good at healing anyway.  Don’t let her attempt to heal anyone who would normally be beyond your skills for at least the first year or two, maybe more.  You’ll know as her healing magic improves and strengthens.  But it’s very important Morgana, that you don’t over commit yourself, you must know your own limits.”

He waited until he was sure he had their attention.  “Morgana, you must not try to heal if the level of magic is beyond you, and you won’t know that until you become accustomed to your new powers.  That’s why you must listen to Thea, she’ll have a much better sense of it than you will at first.  You’ve got to take it slowly, if you push yourself too far then the magic may drain you.  Are you listening carefully?  If you go too far, and the magic drains you, it will put your life at risk.  You may die if this happens.  Do you understand me, both of you?”

He waited again, they nodded.  “Right, any questions?”

Thea asked, “Emrys, what you are going to do requires much power, much more than I have and I am one of the strongest in my camp.  This is going to put _you_ at risk, isn’t it?”

Merlin looked away from her.  He should have known she’d think that, but she had no true understanding of his capabilities.  Was he really that unusual?  His brow creased, Arthur and Morgana were looking at him with almost identical expressions of annoyance and trepidation, it was clear that thought hadn’t occurred to them until now.

Arthur shook his head.  “Merlin, is that true?”

Merlin gave Thea an exasperated grimace but the old woman didn’t back down.  “You’re our only hope, Emrys.  Without you, your prince will change, he’ll lose faith, and magic will never return to our land.  Without you, there will be no hope for anyone, for those with magic and even for those without.  There’ll never be peace between us.  Without the balance restored and magic returned, the land will slowly die, crops will fail, streams will run dry, there’ll be famine and drought.  In time, all life in this land will perish, both man and beast.  I know the prophecies.  You’re too important to risk, Emrys.”

Merlin nodded slowly, and dropped Morgana’s hand.  “I see where you’re coming from, Thea.  I do.”  He ran a hand through his hair.  “You’re right, and you’re wrong.  Because I _am_ Emrys, and that’s why I can do this.  I alone have the power.”  He paused and said to her intently, but not unkindly, “And I alone have the authority.  Don’t question my ability to perform magic that you cannot understand.”

Arthur wasn’t giving up.  “You mightn’t want her to question you, Merlin, but I will.  Are you completely insane?  I’d have never agreed to this if I’d known you’d put yourself in danger!”

Irritation surfaced, and Merlin snapped at him, “So, you’d have me choose one of the other options, would you?  Which one?  Oh, what about mind control, that’ll work, Morgana won’t mind, at least she won’t, _once I control her_.  Or no, not that one?  Then how about death then?  She may not like that, _but once she’d dead_ she’ll hardly care, will she?”

Arthur’s annoyance escalated, he shot across the tent to Merlin, thrusting a finger in his face.  “Of course I don’t want either!  But you shouldn’t have lied to me about it!  You told me to trust you with the magic, and I was!  But how can I, if you’re going to lie about something like this?”

Merlin wasn’t backing down.  “That’s right, Arthur.  I told you to trust me with the magic, because I know what I’m doing!  Of course I didn’t tell you it was risky, because _it’s not risky for me_!  You don’t understand because you don’t have magic, but they don’t understand either because they can’t sense my abilities!  What did Iseldir say, before we came into the camp?  He said he can _barely sense my magic_ , and that it’s _different to others_.”

Arthur glared, unconvinced.  Merlin was determined.  “Look.  I’m telling you, it’s not dangerous, not to me and not to Morgana.”  He switched to mind speech and said carefully, hoping the prince would see reason, _“Arthur, I’m not like them.  I’m a creature of magic, Thea doesn’t understand my abilities because my magic is different to anything she’s seen before.  Remember that I couldn’t sense the wyvern, which is a creature of magic?  She can’t truly sense the magic in me, either.  So maybe I’m a bit like the wyvern, although with much nicer eyes, huh?”_   He said aloud, “Like I said, you just have to trust me, Arthur, with the magic.”

Thea offered tentatively, “I believe you, Emrys.”

Merlin gave her a wry glance.  “Well thanks.  But can I suggest next time you want to question me about something relating to my _safety_ you don’t do it in front of Arthur.”  He turned to the prince.  “Arthur?”

Arthur crossed his arms, he understood, but he was still trying to calm down.  He said shortly, “Yes, yes, very well.  You’ve convinced me, you’ll be fine, Merlin.”

Another voice spoke up.  “No, Merlin, you won’t be.  You said you can’t do this without my cooperation and I’m not giving it.  Thea was right first time.  It’s too dangerous.”

Merlin sighed.  “It’s not dangerous, Morgana.  And I didn’t know you cared.”

The diversion didn’t put her off and she shook her head, stubborn.  “I didn’t say I did.  Thea was right the first time.  And I won’t let you do it.”

“You can argue about it until the cows come home Morgana, but I don’t have time for this.  Arthur, Thea, would you mind?  I need to speak with Morgana alone.”

Arthur shot him a knowing look and muttered something about _kissing_ and _privacy_ but Merlin wisely chose not to hear.  The prince gave him a final eye roll but went outside the tent with Thea.  Merlin turned to Morgana, she had her hands on her hips, ready for a fight.

“Morgana, we’ve been through this already, you agreed, so I’m going to do it.”

“No Merlin, not if it’s dangerous.”

He hissed in a low voice, exasperated, “It’s not dangerous!  How many times do I have to repeat myself?”  Her expression didn’t change and he moved closer, taking both her hands into his.  He said coaxingly, “Look, it’s not dangerous, but if you don’t cooperate with me you’ll make it dangerous for me.”

She didn’t believe the trump card.  “Really?  How?”

He walked her backwards to the bed, the back of her knees hit the mattress and they stopped.  “Because I’ll play dirty, Morgana, I’ll let you sense my magic before I start, and the only thing you’ll be able to think of is how much you want to kiss me, you’ll do anything for it, including letting me mix the magic.”

He smiled, she was shocked, or at least she was pretending to be, Merlin was pretty sure part of her was quite satisfied with this revelation.  “And you see that would be very dangerous for me, because if I’m lying on this bed kissing you, then I can tell you without a doubt I’ll have a lot of difficulty concentrating on what I’m meant to be doing, and _that’s_ when it will be dangerous to me.”

“That’s not fair!”

He let go of her hands.  “All’s fair in love, war and magic, Morgana.”

She sat down on the bed, a small frown creasing her face.  Then she looked up at him and said slyly, “You’d kiss me like that in front of Thea and Arthur, Merlin?  Are you sure?  You’d pay for it, Arthur’d never let you live it down.”

He sat down beside her, resting his elbows on his knees, leaning forwards and turning his head to look at her.  He smiled slightly, playing her game.  “Well what does it matter, he’s seen it all before, hasn’t he?  Just then, huh?”

She glowered at him, out-manoeuvred.

“We’ve come further than I thought, if you’re querying this because you’re concerned about me.  I thought the only thing that’d stop you was lack of trust in me.”

“I suppose we have, then.”  She bit her lip, suddenly serious.  “I still don’t understand it.  And I don’t understand how you can look past what I’ve done.  And I don’t know if I can trust you, really.”

“Don’t think about it too much, Morgana.  Just remember we had a strong friendship once, let’s try and get it back.”

She nodded, but her indecision was obvious.  “I want to trust you Merlin, but I don’t know if I can.  And you probably feel the same?”

“I won’t abandon you again, Morgana.  You can’t come to Camelot, but I’ll visit you here, as often as I can.  I can’t teleport here, but I can teleport back, at least the journey one way will be quick.”  He thought of Kilgharrah, would he dare later to ask the dragon to fly him here?  He’d have to wait and see, he didn’t want to fight with him about it.  “And maybe sometimes we can meet halfway.”  She put her hand in the middle of his back and leant her head against his shoulder.  “I can speak with you even when I’m at Camelot, I can use mind speech from a long distance.  You won’t be able to reply to me when I’m so far away, but I’ll be looking out for you, Morgana, thinking of you.”

She nodded, her other hand smoothing across the brown material of his jacket at the crook of his elbow.  “I can’t abandon Morgause, Merlin.  And I don’t want to.  You have to understand that, please.”

Merlin sighed.  “I’m not asking you to choose between us, not yet.  But I will, in time, I can’t pretend I won’t.  You can’t have us both.  But for now, just let me in again, huh?  Allow yourself to make a choice this time with all your options on the table.  I took myself out of the equation last time, and I’m sorry for it.”

Her eyes were bright, she curved her head away, but he saw. 

“Don’t hide from me, Morgana.”  He was gentle, he turned to the side, and pulled her into an embrace, his arms around her.  She leant her head against his chest and his heart beat steadily against her ear.  “It’ll be alright, Morgana.  Everything.  Let go of your anger, resentment and fear.  Take this opportunity, not just for yourself but for me too.”  He felt the magic in her and wanted to kiss her again, he wrestled with his own magic to block the urge, and only just succeeded.

He stroked her hair, and thought about what the dragon had told him, how she’d be evil, the darkness to his light.  He’d done what Kilgharrah had asked, but what if it had been his own actions that had ultimately led her on this path?  Now he was doing what he knew he had to do, he hoped they wouldn’t be opposites any more.  He caressed the long line of her arm, her shoulders, the smooth skin of her collar bone and the shape of her face.  Her eyes were green and alive, and she was watching him.

“I’m ready,” she said.  And so was he.

 


	19. Chapter 19

Merlin called Arthur and Thea back into the tent.  Arthur glanced from him to Morgana, then asked, “Why exactly is it you need me, Merlin?”

Oh.  Merlin said, “Err ... your physical strength, that’s what.  I’ll need you at the end.”  That was the truth.

Arthur had clearly thought about it.  “Because Morgana’s my sister?”

Merlin wanted to smile, but he didn’t.  “Something like that.”  Arthur seemed slightly suspicious of this answer, and Merlin said to Thea hurriedly.  “Thea, we’re ready now.”

He turned back to Morgana, waiting as she unfastened her cloak, and draped it across a wicker basket.  Merlin grabbed a few pillows and arranged them on at the head of the bed, and she sat back against them.

He sat down beside her on the edge of the bed, the bed dipped and their hips pressed together.  He turned to Arthur and Thea.  “This won’t take more than ten minutes.  I need to concentrate, so please don’t let anyone else in the tent, and don’t try to talk to me.  You both need to stay well back until it’s done, stay over near the entrance, over there.” 

He waited until they both moved away, then he turned back to Morgana.  She was watching him patiently, and something in him clenched at the vulnerability she was allowing him to see.  He fought back the feeling, this was no time for sentiment, he had to concentrate.

He placed his hands either side of her head and said to her, “Morgana, just relax.  It won’t hurt you.  I want you to keep your eyes open for as long as you can, and look into my eyes.  Don’t look away, keep watching me.  You’ll pass out eventually, but fight it as long as you can, alright?”

She nodded and he shut his eyes, concentrating, seeking the deep well of power in him, drawing it slowly to the surface.  It simmered restlessly, waiting for his command, and his eyes opened, glowing gold, and he battled to harness the magic.  She gasped at the raw power emitting from him, and he pressed a finger over her mouth to quieten her, then it was his again. 

He shifted on the bed, gathering in his links to Kilgharrah and the old religion, they flowed through his blood, the magic throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and with that beat, he reached out to her.  Their magic collided when she instinctively tried to block him, but he smoothed her bottom lip with his thumb and she opened to him.  He felt the answering beat of her heart;  they were joined.

He probed her mind carefully, and his magic rushed to welcome him, he patted it down, murmuring words of the old religion to hone his command.  He concentrated on her heartbeat and breathing, finding her rhythm, increasing the speed of his pulse to marry with her own.

One of his hands still cupped her jaw, and his free hand curved around her waist, drawing her closer.  She was doing what he’d asked, she hadn’t looked away from him, her hands were resting on his hips beneath his jacket, he hadn’t noticed when she’d moved to hold onto him.

He probed further and found what he was after, delicate threads of her magic tentatively reaching for him.  He caressed the fragile tendrils of silver, coaxing them to mix with the deep gold strands of the other magic that was part dragonlord, part Emrys, and something so ancient it was lost in the beginnings of time.

Another burst of his magic and it was almost done, the gold consumed the soft silver, and Morgana’s gasp at the transformation was in unison with his own.  Her mouth sought his, he kissed her back, then her eyes fluttered shut, her hands fell away from him, he sighed, resting his forehead against hers, closing his own eyes and slowly withdrawing from her mind.  Her heartbeat slowed as his quickened, his chest rose and fell rapidly as he gathered his strength to make the  final seal that would ensure his binding endured forever.

He opened his eyes, she was half slumped against him, and gently, he lowered back onto the pillows, the magic had drained him and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.  Her hair spilled in a wave framing her face, she was pale and her lips were slightly parted.  A pulse throbbed in her neck and he touched it.

He drew on his power for the final time, his head jerking involuntarily three times as the magic swirled through him uncontrolled before he could bend it to his will.  He used the words to focus, they were almost snarled, _“Ic gebann!  Se ic gefræge hléowmæg béo ne læten.  Se galdorcwide sy gadertang.”_

He cast the enchantment and his eyes flashed gold, the power screamed out of him, his task was complete.  But his strength was fading, and he’d lost focus too soon, and cast too much power, and he wasn’t ready when it tried to return home to him and it hit him like a giant magical slap in the face.  The rebound threw him backwards, his shoulder crashed into the edge of the table, and he heard in mind speech a familiar and furious roar from his kin, _“Merlin!”_

He was vaguely aware that a bright golden light was exploding from him, then his eyes slipped shut as he fell into unconsciousness.

 

*****************

It was later, much later, and Merlin’s head hurt, a lot.  He opened his eyes and groaned, there were two blurry Arthurs sitting in front of him, and even one was far too many to cope with right now.

Both Arthurs spoke, thankfully in just one voice, but in a tone edged with disapproval.  “I thought you said that wasn’t going to be dangerous for you.  You’ve been unconscious for a day.”

“Oh.  Only a day?  That’s good.”

“Wrong answer, Merlin!”

He winced and clutched his head, rolling over on the bed, hoping Arthur would leave him in peace.  “Not now.  Yell at me later.  Headache.”  He shut his eyes again and tried not to whimper, his stomach was queasy from the pain in his head.

“Why am I not surprised this happened?”  Arthur did at least lower his voice. He nudged him.  “Here, drink this.  Iseldir and Thea said it’d help.”  He put an arm behind Merlin’s back to help him sit upright, and held out a small container of green liquid.

Remembering Gaius’s potions, Merlin made a face but reached out with an unsteady hand, bringing it to his mouth with Arthur’s assistance, and tipping it down his throat obediently.  As he swallowed the mixture his pain decreased almost instantly, he stared at the vial in dawning surprise.  “That was actually nice.”  Thea had to talk to Gaius.  Merlin tasted the residue in his mouth thoughtfully, “And it had magic in it.”

He suddenly remembered.  “Morgana?  Is she alright?”

“She’s fine.  She was only out for about an hour.  She’s been to see you but Thea wouldn’t let her stay long.”

Merlin collapsed back down on the pillow.  The headache had receded to a manageable level but he still felt very weak.  And his magic was still unsettled, he felt it sloshing and flickering around inside him.

Arthur asked, “So, what exactly, was my role meant to be in that transformation with Morgana’s magic?  I haven’t quite worked it out.”

Merlin managed a goofy grin.  “I thought you would’ve realised by now, it should have been obvious.  Thea was there for Morgana, and you were there to pick me up off the ground at the end, of course.”

Arthur frowned. “So it _was_ dangerous, and you knew something like that would happen to you?”

Merlin sighed.  “Arthur, honestly, it wasn’t dangerous, I didn’t lie when I told you that.  But I knew it would use up a lot of my power and leave me physically weakened.  But there was never any risk to me, it was draining but I’ll recover.  Give me another day or so and I’ll be alright, especially if Thea has something else she can give me, that headache potion is something else.”

Merlin looked at his surroundings and suddenly realised he was lying on a bed in an unfamiliar tent.  “Where am I?”

“Nathaniel’s tent.”

“This is his tent?  And I’ve been on the bed for a day?  Where’s Nathaniel then?”

Arthur leaned back on the chair and stretched out his legs, propping them up on the end of the bed.  “Funny you should ask that.”

Merlin hadn’t thought so.  “Err ... why?”

Arthur was pleased to be able to enlighten him.  “Well, right before you passed out this bloody bright gold light flashed around the entire encampment, so I’m told.  I personally didn’t see much because I was so close to the source of the flash – you - I was blinded for a few minutes.  But now, every single person here knows that Emrys is in residence, because, you see, Iseldir told me that you may as well hired a town crier to pass on the news of your presence, the light and the magical power you released amounted to the same thing.  I’ve got to say, Iseldir has a stranger sense of humour than you do, he’s amused by the whole situation.” 

Merlin’s eyes widened and he sat up abruptly, Arthur was still talking.  “So, Gwaine’s been busy all day keeping people out of here.  Women have been bringing me warm blankets and food for Emrys, and girls are really really really keen, to meet you, and we won’t let them in ...”, he smiled nicely and clarified, “...while you’re too ill and defenceless, anyway.”

“Oh.”

“Exactly.  But that’s not all.  You asked where Nathaniel was.”

“Um, yes.  I did.”

“He’s out with Iseldir, and a dozen other druids repairing the magical shields that are meant to hide this encampment.  You knocked them out, all of them, apparently that’s meant to be next to impossible.  Iseldir also happened to mention it’ll take them about a week to repair.”

“Err.  Okay.  Um, are they ... mad at me?”

“Of course they’re bloody not mad at you.  Iseldir’s amused - the more idiotic your behaviour is the more he seems to like you - and Nathaniel’s just honoured that it was his camp’s shields you choose to destroy in the first place.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly choose to destroy them!”

“Hmm.  But you know, Merlin.  I’m saving the best for last.”

“Oh no.  Not more?”

“Yes.”  Arthur straightened, he placed his feet back on the ground and stuck his head closer to Merlin.  “Oh yes, there’s more.  You see, there’s a bloody _great big cranky dragon_ in the woods outside the camp, and _I’ve been the one who’s had to go and talk to him and calm him down!_  Me!  Yet you’re the dragonlord!  Do you know how embarrassing it is to get told off by a dragon?  And it was in front of Lancelot and Iseldir, and half the camp!  I’m a prince, Merlin, no one talks to me like that!”

“What?  You mean Kilgharrah?  It’s not my fault, I didn’t call him!”

“Of course I mean him!  What other ones are there?  And please don’t tell me this is where you say there’s a herd of great big cranky dragons you talk to regularly.”

“No.  No, no.  Uh, it’s just Kilgharrah I see.  You mean to say he’s waiting outside the camp?  For me?”

“I knew you’d knocked your head when you passed out.”

“Oh no.  I’m in trouble, I know it.  Did he say what the problem was?”  Merlin was pretty sure it was about Morgana and what he’d done, but a hint would be useful so he could plan ahead his defence.

Arthur looked at him like he was stupid.  “Yes.  He did.  Let me see, firstly I had to stop him trying to get into the camp to find you, since he thought you might’ve been dead or at least close to it.”

“That’s ridiculous!  Why would he think that?  And the forest is too dense, he couldn’t get through here anyway!”

“He was going to try.  As for why would he think that?  As he very _crossly_ explained, it was to do with the prophecies, he said they vanished and so did you, and so did everything attached to you and me, for about an hour.  You’re lucky he took a while to get here, by the time he arrived I’d at least reappeared in them, but not you or much else and he was very agitated.  Did you know he breathes fire when he’s like that?”

“Oh no, he didn’t ... did he?”

Arthur gave him a pointed look.

“Arthur, he knows better than to put you or anyone else in danger.  If he was in any way at all hostile you’d better tell me, I’ll have to talk to him about it.”

“No, he didn’t try to harm anyone, just several trees.  I asked him to please put out the fire, he did ... eventually, once he’d calmed down a bit.  Which leads me to the second problem.  Since when it is _my fault_ what you choose to do with your magic?  I _got in trouble_ for letting you put forth _too much magical effort_ and letting you pass out in the first place!  I’m not your keeper!”

Oh.  It was very difficult to keep a straight face, but Merlin managed ... but only just.  “Uh ... you got in trouble?  From Kilgharrah?  For that?” 

“Yes!”  Arthur was still annoyed about the injustice of it all.  “How could that be my fault?  And not to mention you never said what it’d do to you!”

“Well.  Yes.  So ...”  Merlin tried to seem nonchalant.  “So, what did he have to say about what I’d done with Morgana?  Much?”

“Nothing at all, not to me.”  Arthur’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.  “Why?”

“Oh, no reason.”  Merlin shrugged, then admitted, “I thought that’d be what he was furious about.”

“He would?”

“Yeah.  We’ve argued about Morgana before, a number of times, actually.”  Merlin scratched his head.  “It’s a reoccurring theme.  I’m surprised he didn’t have anything else to say about her to you, maybe he’s saving it up for me.  Or ...” he tried to be hopeful.  “But now he knows I’m not dead, please tell me he’s flown off, right?”

“Of course not.  Lancelot’s keeping an eye on him, we’ve agreed that once you’re awake we’ll bring you out to your dragon.  But you’ll have to get through the crowds, the entire encampment have been to gawk at him, from a safe distance of course.  No one here knew any dragons still existed.”

Merlin sighed.  “And I wanted him kept a secret.  Great.  Wonderful.”  He glanced at Arthur.  “But ... you know, I’d better not go anywhere yet.  My headache might come back, and my magic is still a bit erratic.”

“Oh no, Merlin.  I’ll get more potion from Thea if I have to.  And just don’t do any magic.  You can explain this mess to your dragon.  Your dragon, your problem.”

“Fine.”

“Very.  Now do you really need something from Thea, or was that an excuse?”

Merlin was resigned.  “No, I don’t need anything, my head’s alright now.”  He crossed his arms.  “But I’m not going anywhere until I’ve seen Morgana.”

“So you’re putting off trying to settle down a still slightly agitated dragon, to talk to Morgana?”

“I know who needs me the most, Arthur, and it’s not Kilgharrah.  Could you please ask someone if they could find her?”

Arthur sighed.  “Honestly Merlin, sometimes dealing with you is like discussing battle strategies with a three year old.”

Merlin grinned, unable to resist the opening.  “Yeah?  Then go get me what I want before I have a tantrum.”

Arthur gave him an exasperated look and stomped to the entrance to the tent and out of the flap.  Alone again, Merlin sighed and lay back down on the bed, closing his eyes.  He still felt exhausted, it wouldn’t take any effort at all to fall asleep again for another day.

A hand touched his arm and he jumped.  “Morgana!”  He sat up.

She took Arthur’s seat.  “Merlin.  Are you alright?”

“Yeah.  You?”

“I don’t feel much different.  And Thea won’t let me try any healing magic yet anyway.”

“Listen to her, then.”

“I am.”  She stared at the ground.  “So you’re a dragonlord too?”

Merlin bit his lip and swung his legs over the side of the bed, their knees were almost touching.  “I didn’t call him, Morgana.  He wasn’t meant to come here.”

“You’re always keeping secrets.  Would you have ever told me?”

“I don’t know, but I guess so, eventually!  Look Morgana, I don’t want to argue with you again already.  I want your friendship, and I want your trust, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be completely open about everything that springs to mind about my life, not yet anyway, we’re not up to that.”

“And that includes not mentioning you’re a dragonlord?”

“Damn it, Morgana!  It’s nothing to do with you, it’s a bond between me and Kilgharrah.”  He tried to distract her.  “We’re always fighting, did we get married?”

She was cold.  “Not funny, Merlin.”

He shrugged his shoulders, slightly frustrated, the pattern of communication between them for too long had involved constant arguments, and he wanted it to change, but he wondered if it was possible.  “Morgana, trust has to be earned over the passage of time.  And for us, it’ll take a lot of time because things have been very damaged between us for too long.  But what can do is to just keep on trying, together, huh?”

“So you still want to ... keep in contact with me, even now that you’ve separated your magic from me?”

“Yes.  Of course I do.  Why wouldn’t I?”

She studied the rough weave of the blanket on the bed, not looking at him.  “I know why you did this to me, Merlin.  You want me on your side, I understand.  But you also wanted the attraction between us to disappear, you said once the magic link was broken then so would the attraction.”

He reached out and took her hand, the odd compulsion to touch her hadn’t changed.  Her hand was small in his, he’d never thought of her as being smaller than him in any way, before.  “Do you think it has?”

She wouldn’t answer, wouldn’t meet his eyes, and her avoidance was answer enough.  Suddenly wide awake, he tugged her closer.  “Come here.”  She glanced at him from under lowered lashes then away again.  “Come here, Morgana.  Sit beside me on the bed, will you, please?”  He thought he understood her lack of confidence, she was damaged, she’d been driven by fear for so long, rejected by Uther, rejected by him, rejected by the norms of the society she’d once belonged to.

Another tug, and she sat down beside him.  He hadn’t let go of her hand.  He tried again, “Well?”

She shrugged, she didn’t want to give anything away.  “I don’t know.  What do you think?”

He cupped her face, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw, and said huskily, “I think you’re beautiful,” and he bent his head and covered her mouth with his own, kissing her slowly, giving her a chance to stop him.  But she didn’t stop him, she sank into his embrace, her lips opening and moving under his, she tasted of sunshine and mint and something familiar and _right_.

She slid her arms around his neck, he drew her closer and her body pressed up against his.  It felt just as incredible as before, his head spun, and he lost himself in her, urging her down against the pillows, until he was lying half on top of her, supporting his weight on his elbows.  His tongue claimed the intimacy of her mouth, he wanted more of her, he ached to explore everywhere he hadn’t been, she was soft and firm in all the right places, it was all he could do to keep his hands on something neutral.

Eventually he pulled back, and leant his forehead against hers.  “We’ve got to stop, Morgana.”  He propped himself up on one elbow and lay on his side, tracing the outline of her lips with his finger.  He didn’t know if he could think rationally, but he had to try.  “My magic is still unstable, which means I am too, you’ve got to help me control myself.”

The soft look in her eyes stripped him of his defences, and he allowed himself just one more kiss, one more wouldn’t hurt.  Her eyes slid shut, and her fingers stretched up to play with his hair, running over the tip of his ears.  He smiled against her mouth.  “You’re not helping much.”  Her face was flushed, he knew why, and it excited him out of all proportion to know he was the reason for it. 

“I know.”  She smiled back, her voice husky.  “Maybe I don’t want to.” 

Oh god.  He teased her mouth with his own again, nibbling at her lips until a soft moan of need escaped her, and it was like someone had flicked a switch in him, he found himself driving her back down into the bed, covering her body with his as he frantically deepened their kisses, groaning into her mouth.  He was fierce and burning, she matched his desperation, their passion building, raw and elemental.

He rucked her shirt up and found the warm skin of her hips and stomach, the naked contact of his hand on her skin made his magic zing wildly.  He caressed her, they kissed and kissed and kissed again.  She cried his name, arching up against him, then she hooked her foot around his ankle, he lost his balance and his hips fell against her, it put him right where he wanted to be, and he shook uncontrollably.

It was a moment out of time and it had to stop, he knew it, but he wouldn’t, he couldn’t.  He gasped, desperate and almost over the edge, “Morgana, stop me.  Please, stop me.”  He felt his magic thrumming but he couldn’t concentrate, could barely control it or himself, not when he’d been so weakened and not with her in his arms like this.  “Please.”  His voice was hoarse with effort, but he didn’t know whether he was devastated or relieved when she wrenched her mouth away from him and pushed at his shoulders. 

He released her instantly, she slid out from beneath him and he flipped over and buried his face in the bed, his fingers clenching, twisting the sheets into a wrinkled lump.  It seemed forever before he could look at her again, when he finally had enough control he turned over, sitting up uncomfortably.  She’d sat back down on the stool beside the bed and was eyeing him guardedly, her hands clasped primly in front of her.

He rubbed his hand over his face and cleared his throat.  “Well.”

“Well?”

“Uh huh.”  He wished she wasn’t so calm and composed, he certainly wasn’t feeling that way.  He sat up on the edge of the bed but he didn’t get too close to her this time.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to go the way it did.  I guess I might have been a little bit wrong, about the magic link ending, do you think?”

“Perhaps.”  She avoided his eyes.

“What is it, between us, Morgana?  It’s more than magic, isn’t it?”

She wasn’t looking at him.  “What do you think?”

No, he was wrong, she wasn’t nearly as calm as she seemed.  “I think you’re afraid to trust me, and you don’t want to tell me what you think, in case I hurt you again,” he said softly.  “You’re more guarded than the Morgana I once knew.  But I understand it.  But if you want to know what I think – I believe it’s more than simple magic that’s bringing us together.”

He hesitated, but he couldn’t play it safe.  “And I’m afraid too, because you can hurt me too.  But it’s a risk I’ll take, Morgana.”

She nodded slowly and tucked a strand of hair over her shoulder, but she wouldn’t open up to him, not yet.

He shook his head and said softly, “But yet this is wrong.”  He pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, it was his turn to avoid her.  “We can’t get involved like this.  But every time I touch you ...” 

She spoke.  “It doesn’t matter, Merlin.  Just forget it.”

“No.”  His head shot up.  “I can’t forget it, I don’t want to.  But you know, we _both_ know, we shouldn’t take it any further, not yet, it’ll complicate things too much, Morgana, and things between us are so complicated already.  We need to learn how to be friends again first, before we try anything else.  We probably shouldn’t even be kissing each other, but ...”

She was silent and unmoving, he physically ached to comfort her, he clenched his hands.

He begged her to understand.  “Morgana, I’m not rejecting you.  Don’t think that.  But we’re having a difficult enough time dealing with what’s gone on between the two of us, all the deception and mistrust and more, without adding to it ten times over.  Learning to trust each other and building a friendship has to come first, it’s a solid foundation, and I need to feel that with you.  We can’t have anything else without it, especially after everything we’ve done to each other.  Please?”

He saw the tension in her, and the distress she couldn’t quite mask, she was ready to make her exit but he couldn’t let her leave him, not like this.  He felt something inside him splinter, he wished their relationship, or whatever it was, could be simpler.

“Please don’t.  I want to hold you, but I can’t.  I can’t trust myself right now.  My magic is still all over the place after yesterday, I need to keep a lid on my emotions to keep it in check.  Neither of us are in the right time for a full blown relationship between us.  But I care about you more than I’d ever thought possible.  I want you to be happy, and safe.  There are just too many barriers, you know it as well as I do.” 

She tried to pretend she was unaffected, but he knew.  He gave up.  “Damn it, come here.” 

She stiffened as he hauled her into his arms, but he held her close and tucked her head against his chest.  “Shsssh.”  He soothed her, tracing circles around her back with the palm of his hand, holding her centred him and he wasn’t going to question why.  “God, Morgana, I just want to forget about everything else and climb into bed with you, it’s driving me mad, but please understand me.  Morgause is a massive barrier between us, and I’m going to fight her for your loyalty.  And we both have things we must do.  You’ve got a long road ahead of you learning healing magic.  And my first priority is always Arthur.  I don’t want to hurt you, but that’s how it is.”

He held onto her, he wasn’t giving her a chance to speak even if she wanted to, he couldn’t endure it if she rejected him outright now, he just wanted her to think.  “And I don’t know how to do this with you.  We need to take this friendship slowly, without too many expectations.  My place is with Arthur at Camelot.  You belong with the druids now, and you need to be with Thea.  I need your friendship, but it wouldn’t be right for us to be more than that, we both have to do other things that are more important than what we might share.”

Finally, she gave him some ground, reaching up to clutch hold of his shoulder.  “Merlin, I know.  You’re right.  We can’t do this, no more kissing, no more hugging, none of that, we can’t.”

She leant away from him and flattened her hands against his chest, prepared to slide off his lap, but his arms crushed around her, and he choked out, “No!  I mean, hugging is okay, it’s friendly.  Let me hug you, huh?”

She raised an eyebrow, he wasn’t begging but he was getting close to it.  Reassured, she snuggled back against him and said dryly, “I have my doubts about the wisdom of hugging.”

His chest rumbled, “So do I, but I want to do it anyway.  Maybe hugs in public would be a better idea?”

“Probably.”  He couldn’t see her smiling, her hair was hiding her face but he could hear it in her voice. 

He sighed, and rocked her back and forth in his arms, the physical and emotional pull was still almost overpowering.  Maybe his magic just needed to settle down again.  “We’ll get there.  It’ll be alright, in the end.”  He wanted to convince himself of it too, he had to try.  What was happening to him, to them?  He was sure of his words but why did they feel so wrong?  The thought of not being with her felt like stepping off into a bottomless void of despair, like ripping out part of himself.

Silence reigned, and he allowed himself to squeeze his eyes shut and bury his face in her hair.  He didn’t even mind when it tickled his nose, because she was still curled up in his arms, and the warm pressure of her hand was flat against his chest.  He wanted to stay like that and not think about anything else for a while, and he did, they were silent, and he was content to just enjoy the feeling of closeness between them that came with her proximity.

“Merlin?” 

It took him a moment to realise Arthur had spoken, he twisted around at the sound behind them, the prince had stuck his head back inside the tent.  He tightened his hold on Morgana.  “Yeah?”

“You’ve got to come with me, now.  You can’t put off seeing the dragon any longer.  He’s getting impatient.”

Merlin sighed and Morgana wriggled away, she met Arthur’s eyes.  The prince said to her, “Morgana, Thea’s waiting for you too.”  He hesitated, and said cautiously to his sister, “You alright?”

Morgana was startled by the question, Merlin saw it too.  He knew Arthur had a long way to go before he could forget her betrayal, but Merlin suspected the prince understood her more than he let on, he was close to forgiveness already.  Merlin knew Arthur had decided to give her another chance long ago even if he hadn’t said so, but it was all there in his behaviour, in his general teasing of Merlin’s relationship with her, and Arthur’s own lack of hostility to her. 

Merlin watched her nod to her brother, she left the tent with a quick backwards glance at both of them.  Merlin turned to Arthur, remembering what the prince had told him earlier.  “I need a druid cloak.”

“What?  Why?”

“I want something with a hood on, I’m not going out there until I have it.  Actually maybe you should too.  Disguise, you know, from all those people you said are going to be looking at us.  I can’t let my secret get back to Camelot.”  He knew he was babbling, but he was still trying to regain his equilibrium.

“Bit late for me, Merlin.  In between going to and from this tent and the mass of people checking out your bloody dragon, my face will be forever ingrained in their memories.  They’ll be talking about these last two days around their campfires for generations to come.”

Merlin peered up at him somewhat gloomily.  “You’re probably right.  And I guess it’s not like they’re going to tell anyone in Camelot.”  He stood up, he felt much better than he had when he first woke up, but he was very aware of his magic churning inside him.  It hadn’t stabilised yet, and he knew he couldn’t risk using it.  He felt a bit lightheaded, he’d felt better lying down, especially when he’d been with ... no, he cut that thought off quickly. 

He found his boots at the end of the bed and pulled them on.  His jacket was hanging over the back of a chair, it smelt fresh, someone had washed it.  He put it on too and noticed he was wearing his blue shirt, the clean one he’d left in his pack.  He must have been properly unconscious earlier because he certainly didn’t remember changing it.

There was nothing else to delay him. 

“Arthur?”  Merlin was hesitant, and the prince gave him an enquiring look.  “Are there really a lot of people out there, wanting to see ... me?”

Arthur walked across and clapped him on the back.  “In one word?  Yes.  But you’re going to have to get used to it sometime, and it may as well be now.  Come on.”

He ran a hand through his hair and followed Arthur out.  He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it hadn’t been this, although there was no one close to Nathaniel’s tent, there were crowds of people not far away, some of them standing around in groups talking, others seemingly busy occupying children, or doing chores.  He saw Gwaine in the distance, surrounded by young women.  But it was the strangest sensation when all these people turned to look at them, and many were quite open about it, dropping what they were doing and pointing him out to their neighbours.

Morgana was with Thea not far away, he gave her a tight smile and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, then stuck his hands in his jacket pocket.  He said to Arthur in a low voice, not wanting to be heard, “Have they been doing that to you, too?”

Arthur held back a grin, amused at Merlin’s discomfort.  “Only at first, and that was probably because they were expecting you to come out with me, I’m nowhere near as interesting as you.  Hope they’re not too disappointed, they probably expected you to be seven foot tall, ten years older, and much, much better looking.”

Merlin made a face, he wasn’t capable of any comeback, witty or not.  Arthur prodded him.  “Take some lessons from me, I know what to do with a crowd.  All they want from you now is for you to acknowledge them, so give them a wave or something.”

Merlin glanced at him doubtfully, this was all very good and well for Arthur to say, he was a prince.  Waving to a bunch of druids in a campsite seemed a silly idea to him.

Arthur led him through the crowd in a south-easterly direction, this apparently was the way to Kilgharrah.  Despite himself, Merlin found he was eyeing the people curiously, and they weren’t backward in their own interest in him.  He was relieved to see no one seemed at all hostile, many seemed friendly, like they’d like to approach him and once one old man patted him on the arm and mumbled, “I never thought I’d live long enough to meet you, My Lord,” that seemed to be the signal for everyone to cluster around him, some of them touched him and exchanged greetings, others were content to just smile a welcome to him.

Arthur had his hand on Merlin’s shoulder by now, and Merlin thought without the prince guiding him through the crowd he’d never get out.  It felt odd to be the focus of attention in such a large crowd, but he found he didn’t really mind it after all, there was such a general feeling of goodwill and happiness it was nice to be part of it all, even if it felt odd to be the reason for it.

As they passed through the groups of people, Merlin noticed a cluster of small children eyeing him with open curiosity and fascination.  One of the little girls tugged at his sleeve as they walked past, and Merlin stopped, looking down at her.  Her big blue eyes peered out at him from under a tussle of messy blond hair, she couldn’t have been more than six or seven. 

A goofy grin spread across Merlin’s face at her expression, and that must have been enough to loosen her tongue as she said to him in a stage whisper that carried clearly across to the adults nearby, “My dad says you’re Emrys, and you’re going to make it safe again for magic kids.”  Her face took on a serious expression and she added, “And then no one will want to kill me anymore, because I’m magic like you.”

Merlin reached out to ruffle her hair, both touched and humbled.  “Yes.  That’s what I hope will happen too.”

Arthur had stopped too and she turned to him.  “You’re Prince Arthur, aren’t you?”

Arthur nodded and said solemnly, “Yes, I am.”

The little girl asked Arthur, “Can you do magic like Emrys?”  Arthur shook his head and her face fell, she seemed sorry for him.  “Do you want to see a trick?”

Arthur exchanged a grin with Merlin and nodded, the little girl’s face grew solemn and she held out her hand to the prince and whispered “ _Forbearnan,_ ” and a tiny flame appeared on her palm.  She beamed at Arthur and Merlin.  “You see it?  I can’t do anything else but mum says that I’m very clever.  Can you do that too, Emrys?”  She barely waited for Merlin’s nod before adding, “When you let go of your magic yesterday it felt like a nice warm hug, didn’t it?  Mum said it’s because he’s pure, what does that mean?” 

She addressed the question to Arthur, who found himself hard-pressed not to release a snort of laughter.  Merlin elbowed him in the ribs and took control of the situation.  “She means nice.  Good.  That sort of thing.”  His look at Arthur dared the prince to say anything, and Arthur stifled a grin and tightened his arm around Merlin’s shoulders. 

Arthur said to her, ‘It was nice to meet you, what’s your name?”

“Emeline.”

“Well, Emeline, we have to go now.  I have to take my friend down here to see his dragon.”

The little girl’s eyes grew wide and Arthur took the opportunity to tug Merlin away.  They continued through the encampment, to the other side, to Kilgharrah.

 

********** 

 _Translation:_

 _“Ic geban!.  Se ic gefræge hléowmæg béo ne læten.  Se galdorcwide sy gadertang.”:  I COMMAND!  LET THAT WHICH I HAVE BOUND BE NOT UNDONE.  THE MAGIC IS ONE._

 


	20. Chapter 20

_“Merlin!”_

His name sounded in mind speech, a mixture of affection and annoyance colouring Kilgharrah’s tone.

Merlin didn’t follow Arthur now, he walked beside him.  They could see Kilgharrah near the bottom of the valley, he was in a clearing that seemed hardly big enough for him to land in.  Several blackened trees were still smoking nearby, two had fallen on the ground.

Lancelot was standing back under the tree line a few yards away, he walked up to meet them as they approached, pausing to exchange a few words with Arthur and Merlin before disappearing back into the crowd of druids who were watching from well up the hill.  Arthur stopped at the edge of the clearing, and Merlin walked across to Kilgharrah, stopping in front of him and saying to the dragon, “You summoned me?”

Kilgharrah’s tone was dry.  “Very droll, young warlock.  Your sense of humour survived unscathed.”

“What were you thinking, Kilgharrah, coming here?”

“The question is what were _you_ thinking, Merlin?  Do you realise what you’ve done?  You’ve shifted the patterns in the stars, you’ve changed destiny’s path and the lives of thousands.”

He said quietly, “I had to.”

“Young warlock, I understand your motives more than you do.  And perhaps this time you are not as misguided as you have been in times past.”  Kilgharrah eyed him closely.  “And your great power, means that you may succeed in shaping the future to the one you wish for.”

But did he know what he wished for?  He cut straight to the chase.  “What did you mean, Kilgharrah, when you told me long ago that my future was joined forever to Morgana?”

“What was said then matters no more.  That future has disappeared.”

“So what are you saying?”

“Your destiny, and that of your prince, is clear once more.  The path you’ll take together hasn’t changed.  But the path ... of the other one you care for ... is not yet clear.  The path she was once destined for has ended, your magical transformation ensured that.  She’ll never be your greatest foe now, but whether she becomes your greatest ally, or something in-between, is yet to be determined.  There are two futures newly emerging for her, Merlin, and they will diverge soon enough.  And if you think about it, you’ll know what they are.  They both originate from the most powerful of human emotions.”

Merlin nodded.  “You’re talking of love and hate?”

“Yes.  And the path she’ll choose will depend upon you.”

“What do you mean?  You say it like she has no choice in the matter.”

“She doesn’t, although you may both think she does.  Your choice will determine hers.  Your actions in the past few days were the beginnings of your choice, even though you did not realise it.  Merlin, _you’re_ the instrument of change you wish to see in your world, your choices decide her fate, and the the fate of all those in Albion.”

He was?  Merlin was uncertain about the wisdom of this advice.  He shifted closer, Kilgharrah bent his head and Merlin placed his hand against the bumpy skin near the dragon’s nostrils.  He stroked the rough hide absently, his hand not far from the dragon’s sharp teeth.  He said hesitantly, “I don’t understand it, this thing with her, and I don’t know if it’s right.  I never gave it any thought until a few days ago.  I don’t know if we can be good for each other.  It’s been all about deception and hate for so long, and I can’t see a way past it.”

“Then you’re deceiving yourself.  Love is not a logical emotion, Merlin.  It doesn’t reason why, it just is.  You’ve commanded forces greater than you know to bend the future to your will.  You’ve asked the heavens for her, and it’s not simple friendship or even guilt that drives your request.  Do not delude yourself that the attraction between you is new.  Your future has been joined to hers for as long as it’s been joined to Arthur’s.  But the way it’s joined is what you’ve changed.  The power love commands, is a very curious thing.”

Merlin dropped his hand away and took a step back.  “I don’t believe this.  You’re giving me advice on _love_?”

“Be that as it may, Merlin.  Destiny rewards its faithful servants, and your rewards will be great.  I don’t speak of gold or jewels, for I know you do not covet them.  I speak of the human emotions you value; friendship, happiness and love.  And my young friend, you will do well to remember that you don’t need to always think alike, to love alike, all you need is to find some common ground together, and it will flow from there.”

The dragon allowed amusement to colour his words.  “And in the future, there will be .... someone ... that ensures this common ground, and your connection, forever.” 

Merlin drew in his breath and stilled, alert to the dragon’s nuances, and asked sharply, “Kilgharrah?  _What do you mean_?”

The dragon’s enjoyment deepened.  “If you think about it, you’ll know what I mean, and it will become very clear to others in exactly two years and _nine months_ ... if I am not greatly mistaken, young warlock.  And I never am.”

Merlin’s face paled, he stared wide-eyed at Kilgharrah and stumbled backwards, clutching at a nearby tree trunk for support, his fingernails digging into the bark.  There was an odd buzzing sound in his ears and he forgot to breathe, and his magic whirled through him erratically, making his head spin.

Arthur had heard everything from his vantage point and he called out, “Merlin?”

Two years and _nine months_ , oh god.  Merlin held on desperately to the tree, hoping he wouldn’t keel over.  There was no doubt in his mind what Kilgharrah meant.  A child, his child, his and ... Morgana’s.  He found himself staring at the dragon in a daze, almost dizzy with the shock of it all.  He could barely take it in, to know about impending fatherhood, as a sure, definite occurrence, with a timeframe ... when he hadn’t ... they hadn’t even ... no!

And _no way_ was he letting Arthur know what Kilgharrah meant, no way!  He snuck a glance behind him at the prince and whipped his head back hastily when he caught Arthur watching him with a speculative gleam in his eyes.  He’d never, ever again be frustrated at Kilgharrah again for being cryptic, he’d thank him for it, he hoped his comments were cryptic enough, he really hoped Arthur didn’t understand a word of this conversation.

Merlin tried to regain his equilibrium, but his legs felt weak, along with every other part of him.  He slid to the ground, his back against the tree, and put his head in his hands, trying to manage his breathing.  There was a puff of warm air on his face, he peered up, Kilgharrah had stuck his head closer to get a better view of the impact of his revelation.  Merlin wondered if he could get away with clouting him over the snout, he knew the dragon was enjoying the moment far too much.  But no, he wouldn’t try it, he didn’t have the strength at present.

“Young warlock, I see you’re still weakened from your magical adventures.  Perhaps this isn’t the best time to have such a conversation.”

“You don’t ...”  Merlin stumbled and tried again.  “If this is your idea of humour, then _it’s not remotely funny._ ”

The dragon chuffed lightly.  “Ah, but it _is_ humorous my young friend.  But it’s true too.”  His tone took on smug air.  “ _You_ did this, _you_ changed the path of your destiny, _you_ added another strand.  Or perhaps I should say _two_ strands, or _more_ ... if I am being totally truthful, to your path.”

 _“More?”_   The word came out as a horrified squeak, and Kilgharrah deliberately blew a gust of warm air directly into Merlin’s face.  Merlin jerked, startled, and knocked the back of his head against the tree.

“Not more all at once, young warlock.  Gradually.”  Distraction gained, Kilgharrah continued in a gentle tone, “You should not be concerned.  It will bring you all great happiness.”

Merlin rubbed the back of his head absently, and managed the shadows of a smile, studiously ignoring Arthur’s curiosity.  He decided uncharitably if the prince hadn’t worked it out Kilgharrah’s meaning by now then he was just too thick to rule.  They’d have to find someone else to do the job, Gwaine would be perfect.

Merlin took a deep breath and stood up again, holding onto the tree for support.  And _more?_   How many more than one, was _more?_   He tried to take no notice of Arthur but it was a little difficult when the prince walked up beside him and gave him a friendly and far too cheerful punch on the arm.

Merlin hissed before Arthur could open his mouth, “Don’t even _think_ about ever mentioning to me or anyone else, _anything about that conversation_!”

Arthur snorted, still annoyingly cheerful, and Merlin glared.  Guess Gwaine’s life wasn’t going to get more complicated after all.

He sent another warning glower Arthur’s way to absolutely no effect, then he straightened and ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair.  Could Kilgharrah’s words really be true?  Suddenly vulnerable, he asked the dragon, “Are you sure?  It will work out, Kilgharrah?”  He needed reassurance, the path with Morgana seemed littered with obstacles, next to impossible to navigate successfully.  He needed to have this blind faith so he could confidently move forwards, with her.

“Yes, Merlin.  It will.  Time and love heal many wounds.”

His eyes felt suddenly wet, he scrubbed at them impatiently, and then it was alright, and he just wanted to see her, that was all that mattered.  All the tension drained out of him, and a new purpose took hold.  He knew he wouldn’t be so cautious, not now, if this was another part of his destiny then he’d trust in it.  Because it would work out, his belief in their fate meant he’d fight for her, he knew what he wanted and this assurance would give him the faith to make it work, and he was going to grab it with both hands and hold on tight.

His voice was steady enough when he spoke.  “Do you want to meet her, Kilgharrah?”  It wasn’t a simple question, he expected certain behavioural standards from the dragon, and Merlin knew Kilgharrah would realise it.

The dragon thought about it.  “Yes I do, young warlock.  Bring her here.”

But Merlin wanted a promise from him first, it was too important to chance.  “Kilgharrah?  If what you’re saying is true, then you know what I’m asking, watch what you say, _or I’ll make you regret it_.” 

The dragon didn’t challenge him, he merely nodded his head and slowly blinked his great golden eyes.  Merlin looked back at the crowd behind him, there were too many people to count peering down at them.  The druids were standing well back, far beyond hearing distance and in the scores of faces he couldn’t see her.  He called her name with mind speech, and made his way back up the hill towards the edge of the camp.  He ignored the interest and the whispers and the more outspoken souls who called his name with questions about the dragon.  He saw Thea first, then beside her, Morgana.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea, he stopped in front of her.  He wished for privacy, but it wasn’t to be, he used mind speech again although she couldn’t reply in kind.  _“Morgana, would you like to meet Kilgharrah?”_

Her breathing hitched, she shot him an uncertain glance as she picked at the edges of her cloak nervously.  He thought of Kilgharrah’s timeframe of what would occur and he gave her a secretive look, his eyes dark and stormy with emotion.  He tugged her hand, his eyes flashing at her with a significance she couldn’t understand.  He tried to be casual.  _“Come on Morgana, you’re never scared of anything.  And he won’t hurt you anyway.”_

She gave him a cool glance, but he knew she didn’t mean it because she held his hand tighter and reached out to touch him with the other, making a play of straightening his jacket collar.  Suddenly possessive, he cupped the back of her head, his fingers stroking the soft skin of her neck.  He saw the flare of need in her eyes before she could hide it, and his magic quivered in response.

He slipped an arm under her cloak, around her waist, drawing her to him, then with single-minded intensity took her mouth eagerly, delving in deep.  He kissed her passionately, his mouth moving over hers with great tenderness.  Something profound and elemental and soul-shaking was happening between them;  there was no right or wrong any more, it just was.  His teeth burrowed lightly into her bottom lip, his hand shaped the smooth curves beneath her cloak, then he drew back, smiling a little at the stunned expression on her face, not even caring about the ripples of interest from their audience.

He cleared his throat, pleased with himself, and spoke aloud. “Let’s go, Morgana.” 

But she leant back into him and pressed her lips against his ear, he shivered and she whispered, “What was that for?  I thought we’d agreed there wasn’t going to be any more kissing?”

His magic sparked, he felt a surge of affection for her, his arms tightened, he was stupidly and ridiculously _happy_.  He smiled and answered in mind speech, _“I was wrong, kissing is a great idea.  We need to do it more often.”_  He swapped to verbal speech again as he tugged her down the hill, towards Kilgharrah.  “Come on, let’s go.”

The dragon watched their approach, waiting until they were right up close again.  Morgana was between Arthur and Merlin; she’d grown tense as they approached the dragon and Merlin could tell she was extremely wary, but trying not to show it.  She was holding onto his hand tightly, and she was standing very close to him.

“Morgan le Fay.”  Kilgharrah’s voice was neutral, and he lowered his head to get a better look at her.

Merlin gave him a sharp glance, wondering if the dragon was going to keep his word.  “Her name is Morgana Pendragon, Kilgharrah, you know that.”

Morgana squeezed his hand and spoke up cautiously, but more to Merlin than the dragon.  “No Merlin, he’s correct.  I gave that name up when I came here.  Pendragons belong in Camelot, and I don’t.  It’s not me, anymore.”  She was still standing half behind him, clearly uneasy in the dragon’s presence, but her words were strong enough.  “Many of the druids call me by that name, even Thea.”

Merlin’s eyes flicked her way.  “Why didn’t you mention it?”

Morgana said, “ _You_ didn’t mention your other name!”

Merlin wasn’t going to start another fight.  “Fine, alright.”

Kilgharrah studied her with interest.  “Morgan le Fay.  So, this is war, and you’re the prize.”

“I’m no prize.”  Her retort was automatic and Merlin smiled to himself and noticed Arthur rubbing a hand over his mouth.

“Then perhaps you’re part of the spoils of victory.”

Merlin was familiar with the dragon’s pointed digs, but Morgana wasn’t.  She was still standing half behind Merlin, holding onto his hand, he felt her slight apprehension at Kilgharrah’s words. 

“Kilgharrah.”  Merlin’s tone was a warning.  “This is supposed to be a meet and greet, nothing more.”

The dragon disagreed.  “Hmm.  Meet yes, greet ... I don’t recall agreeing to that.  I shall see which path she takes, first.”

Merlin’s voice cracked like a whip, and Arthur threw him a sideways glance, startled by his tone.  “Then you’d best think about it again, because you did agree, and you said the path was _my choice_.”

“Very well.”  The dragon dipped his head in a bow, conceding.  “Then Morgan le Fay, I will ask you to listen to me.”  His voice gentled, cajoling.  “Love is the beginning to everything, and the divide between love and hate is not an easy one to traverse.  Nor is the path that leads to forgiveness and acceptance.  Learning to trust can be one of life’s most difficult tasks, and it will be, for you.  But if you have trust, the rest will come, more easily than you could imagine.  You would do well to remember that.”

Merlin spoke for her, when it was clear she wasn’t ready to say anything more.  “Thank you, Kilgharrah.”  His tone was wry. 

Kilgharrah looked at him closely, observing the tiredness in his eyes.  “And you, my young friend, would do well do rest again.  Your magic is still very unstable.  It’s a wonder you’ve stayed on your feet this long.  You should have rested a while longer before you visited me.”

“Yes, well ...”  Merlin waved a hand in Arthur’s direction.  “He told me I had to come and see you.  He said you were –“  he turned to Arthur, “What was it again?  A great big cranky dragon, who told him off, and you were my problem and I had to deal with you.”

Kilgharrah studied the prince who didn’t seem remotely bothered by the accusation.  “I suppose that is somewhat true,” the dragon acknowledged grudgingly.  “The disturbance in the prophecies when you changed them, Merlin, was like nothing I have ever experienced.  And I do not wish to experience it again.  It was most disconcerting.”

The dragon addressed Arthur.  “The young warlock is the most unpredictable dragonlord I’ve ever bonded with, and has a tendency to get himself in all sorts of trouble.  Do not forget that I hold you responsible for ensuring his safety.”

“What!”  Merlin was indignant.  “He doesn’t need to look after me!  He hasn’t even got magic!”

Arthur opened his mouth but Kilgharrah beat him to it.  “You two,” he said, addressing his words to both men, “will continue, as you’ve always done, watching out for, and protecting, each other.  Young prince, your friend is more powerful than you can imagine but he is still vulnerable.  I have told you before and I’ll remind you again:  don’t think his power means he cannot be harmed.”

Kilgharrah turned to Morgana.  “And Morgana le Fay.”  Merlin tensed, giving him a warning look.  Kilgharrah said, “If you allow yourself to trust the young dragonlord then you too will be rewarded in ways you cannot imagine.”

There was a smile in Kilgharrah’s voice and Merlin decided to head off this conversation.  It was all very well and good being told what was in store for him in two years and _nine months_ , but he didn’t want Morgana privy to that knowledge, at present, thank you very much.  He wasn’t sure if it would help or hinder his cause, but knowing Morgana’s fighting ways he suspected the latter, he was pretty sure she wouldn’t like the idea of her life already mapped out for her before she could live it.

But then again ... maybe she already had some idea, she’d snuggled up to him and slept in his arms beside the campfire after she’d had a dream she didn’t want to tell him about two nights previously.  And after it she’d kissed him and .... He swallowed and felt his heart thump.  “Alright, thanks Kilgharrah.  You’ll be off now, huh?”

“Very well.”  The dragon dipped his head to Merlin, and added, “I am relieved to find you well, my young friend.”  He glanced at the other two, then up at the druids watching them.  Then he took to the sky, in a lurch of speed and a rush of air that bent back the tree branches as he rose up.

Merlin turned to leave, but the others were still watching Kilgharrah as he disappeared from sight through the gaps in the trees. He was still holding Morgana’s hand, and had no plans at all to let her go.  He gave it a tug, and they all headed back up towards the druid camp.

*********************

Merlin was still tired, more so now than he had been when he first woke up.  He knew it was because his magic was still unsettled, and he also knew he wouldn’t be able to stay awake much longer.  He’d started to feel a little dizzy as they walked back through the encampment, and he tried to ignore the sensation, slightly torn between the idea of sneaking off somewhere with Morgana or spending time with Arthur, Nathaniel and Iseldir.

But in the end the choice  wasn’t a decision he had to make, as Thea took one look at him as they passed through the crowds and followed him back up to Nathaniel’s tent.

“Emrys, back to bed for you,” she told him.  “You hop in there now and I’ll bring you another tonic.  Your headache is coming back, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, a bit.”  He put up a half-hearted protest.  “But I shouldn’t.  Nathaniel might like his tent back.”

“He doesn’t mind.  I’ll give you something that’ll knock you out until the morning, is that okay?”

“Alright.”  He allowed Arthur, Morgana and Thea to take him back into the tent.  He sat on the edge of the bed and unbuckled his boots, yanking them off his feet and tossing them to the side.  He took Thea’s potion when she offered it to him, and the last thing he remembered was Arthur and Morgana’s faces side-by-side, before he slept.

 


	21. Chapter 21

It was early morning when Merlin awoke, and he knew instantly he was much better.  His magic, while not completely recovered, felt almost normal again, back to being the constant and unwavering part of him that was just always there.  He yawned and stretched and peered around, he was the only one in the tent, and only the faint traces of light were filtering through the fabric of the tent.

The air was crisp but he was covered in layers of blankets, he wriggled out beneath them, finding his boots and his jacket, then grabbing the top blanket and taking it with him as he made his way outside.

Arthur, Lancelot and Gwaine were asleep on their bedrolls around the campfire, and no one else was in sight.  Not wanting to wake them, Merlin pushed out a silencing spell, then tossed a few more logs on, and with a quick flick of magic stirred the flames up again.  He found some stew in a pot on the fire’s embers, and helped himself to a bowl, heating it again with his magic until it was pleasantly warm.  He was starving, he hadn’t eaten in a day, and he was onto his second helping within minutes. 

Once his hunger was satisfied, he sat down on one of the large logs, but after watching his friends for some time and finding no signs any were about to wake up, he removed the enchantment and decided to go for a walk around the camp.  He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders again, draping it slightly over his head, partly for warmth and also as it made his identity less obvious.  He couldn’t see anyone else awake nearby, and he was enjoying the peace and quiet, and he wanted anonymity for as long as he could, he wasn’t accustomed to so much interest in him, being an anonymous servant had its advantages despite all the work Arthur chucked his way.

He found himself heading off down the same route he’d taken with Arthur yesterday to visit Kilgharrah.  He reached the clearing soon enough, and poked his foot at one of the blackened trees that the dragon had set on fire, releasing a puff of ash into the damp air. 

The silence was like a balm to his soul, he decided to venture a little further, he thought he’d heard the sound of running water yesterday when he’d been speaking to Kilgharrah, and sure enough, there was a creek not far from the clearing. 

Merlin sat down at the edge on the bank, under the trees, pulling his blanket up further around his shoulders.  The creek wasn’t very wide, and the sound he’d heard was a small waterfall on the far side.  He picked up a pebble and skimmed it over the surface of the water, it bounced three times before it sank.  He picked up another stone, feeling its smooth shape in the palm of his hand, and wondered idly how many times he could get it to bounce with a touch of magic.  He smiled to himself, and the glance around to make sure no one else was watching was instinctive even if it was unnecessary.

Seventy-five.  That was when he grew tired of the game and let the pebble sink.  He picked up another stone and hurled it into the water, the splash and the plopping sound it made as it hit the surface and sank was rather satisfying.  He glanced across again at the far side, a flash of colour behind the trees had caught his attention. 

Then he stood up, watching carefully.  Was that a horse ...?

And there, just coming into view on the other side, Merlin recognised the colours and two of the six men straight away.  He called out, waving, “Elyan!  Percival!”

“Merlin?”

Elyan was puzzled and Merlin suddenly realised why, over his shoulders and his head he was wearing a purple blanket embroidered with druid symbols pertaining to the Tree of Life.  He tugged it down and grinned.  “Yeah, it’s me.  What are you doing out here?”

Elyan shouted back, “Looking for the prince, for all of you.  Where’s Arthur?”

“He’s back up with the druids with Lancelot and Gwaine, probably still asleep.  You’re on the move early.”

“Yeah.  Do you know how we can get across the creek?”

Merlin did, but that would involve magic and was not exactly possible in front of the four other knights who were with Percival and Elyan.  He tried to remember their names.  Borin, Ronan, Henry and .... the last one was new.  That’s right, William.  He called out to Elyan again.  “I don’t know, I just found the creek myself.”

“What about him then, does he know?”

Elyan was pointing to someone behind him, Merlin turned around to see Iseldir walking down the hill towards him.  He beckoned him over, waiting until he was close then spoke in a low voice.  “They need to get across.  Do you know if there’s a crossing somewhere nearby?  Don’t use magic.  Two of them I know well and trust, but I don’t know how the others will react to an open display of magic.”

Iseldir nodded.  “Very well Emrys.”  He called out to the men.  “Knights of Camelot, if you travel upstream about a hundred yards then you’ll find a place where a tree has fallen to make a natural bridge.  The water isn’t too deep there, you should be able to lead the horses through the water as you walk over the log.”

Elyan nodded and Merlin and Iseldir watched them go.  Then Merlin turned to Iseldir.  “I’d better wake up Arthur.  There must be something wrong, they wouldn’t seek us out like this if there wasn’t.”

He reached out with mind speech.  _“Arthur, Gwaine, Lancelot.  Wake up!”_

He felt Lancelot and Gwaine snap to attention immediately but Arthur remained oblivious.  He tried again.  _“Rise and shine.  Up and at ‘em!”_   Still nothing.  Merlin made the mind speech louder ... much louder.  _“Wake up prat!”_

Oops, that might have been too loud.  But at least Arthur was very awake now.  He told them about their visitors and directed them in mind speech to come down to the place Kilgharrah had landed, and turned back to Iseldir.  He was peering off in a northerly direction, the six knights had crossed the creek now and were leading their horses towards them.

“Merlin, my friend.”  Elyan gave him a slap on the back, and Merlin returned the gesture.  Percival nodded, from him that was greeting enough but Merlin gave him a whack on the arm which the knight returned with an easy smile.

Merlin gestured Iseldir forward, introducing him by name only.  The other four knights were standing back somewhat, Elyan motioned them nearer, they exchanged greetings too, and Merlin eyed them carefully, not sure what they’d think about meeting a druid.

“Merlin, we need to talk to Arthur,” Elyan reminded him.

“Yeah, I called him, he’s coming, so are Lancelot and Gwaine.”  Merlin glanced back absently in the direction of the camp, not noticing the puzzled frowns on some of their faces.  “How did you find us, anyway?”

Elyan and Percival exchanged glances.  “We’ve been searching for you for a couple of days, Gaius had a vague idea where you’d said the camp was, but we’d been riding around this same area for a while and hadn’t found anything.  Then just over a day ago, we saw this huge bright flash of light up through the Northern Plains.”  Elyan shot a quick look at the other knights and lowered his voice.  “And Percival and I thought it was magical, so we came this way.”

“Oh.  Yes.”  Merlin remembered what Arthur had said he’d done.  And the camps shields were still down, the usual enchantments that turn away visitors still weren’t fully active again, he’d forgotten about that even though he’d walked through what remained of them earlier and sensed the lingering magic.

He wanted to ask why they’d come, but knew they’d tell him once Arthur had arrived.  Noticing Elyan’s attention was distracted, Merlin turned around and saw Arthur, Lancelot and Gwaine making their way towards them.  Nathaniel was with them.  The prince looked like he’d woken up in a hurry, his hair was standing up in all directions and he still had on his sleep shirt, and it was rather crumpled. 

“Sire.”  Elyan and Merlin walked up to meet them, the other knights and Iseldir followed.

“Elyan, what brings you here?  We might have missed meeting up with you, we would’ve left here within a few days to return to Camelot.”  Arthur was pleased to see him although a little surprised.

Elyan looked at him seriously.  “Sire, I bring bad news.”  He took a deep breath.  “I’ve been sent by Leon and Gwen.  I’m sorry Sire, but the king is gravely ill.  Gaius says ... he may not survive the week.”

Arthur’s face was impassive but Merlin felt his shock, he moved to his side immediately and put his hand on the prince’s shoulder.

Elyan continued.  “Sire, it’s taken us almost four days to find you.  By the time you get back it may be too late.  I’m sorry.”

Arthur turned to the side, a hand rubbing the back of his neck, his free hand pressing against his forehead.  Merlin watched him for a moment, noting the set of his shoulders, then he stepped in front of him and motioned to Lancelot and Gwaine.  “Can you two pack our bags?  Arthur’s gear is with mine, inside Nathaniel’s tent.”

Iseldir touched Merlin lightly on the arm.  “I’ll go with them Emrys, and get some supplies organised for you all.”

“Thanks.”  Merlin gave him a distracted nod of acknowledgement and he followed Lancelot and Gwaine back up the hill towards the camp.

Nathaniel came forwards and said to him, “My Lord, our people know this area better than the prince’s knights.  If some of his men can double-up on horseback and take one of my people to guide you, we could get you back to Camelot within two to three days, depending upon the state of the river crossings.  Yet you may find it is just as quick to walk back through the forests, Lancelot and Gwaine said you left your horses and came through the Darkling Woods.”

“Yes, we did.  Let me talk to Arthur.”  Merlin registered the use of his title again, and the attention its use drew from the knights.  But that didn’t matter right now.  He turned to Arthur, the prince hadn’t spoken, Merlin saw the distress behind the almost composed manner, although he didn’t think the others would see it, not completely.  He said gently, pressing his shoulder, “Arthur?”

The prince looked at him, his face was carefully expressionless and wiped clear of emotion.  Merlin grabbed onto his arm, turning him around, and tugging him away from the others, taking him to the clearing where they’d talked with Kilgharrah.  He stopped at the edge, the distance from the others and the trees gave them limited privacy. 

“Arthur?”  Merlin asked again.  The prince wasn’t wearing a jacket and it was still cool this early in the morning, Merlin was still carrying the ridiculous purple blanket so he draped it around Arthur’s shoulders.  He pushed him back against a tree, his hands on Arthur’s shoulders, his face in front of him.  “Arthur, speak to me.”

Arthur blinked and said with stark bleakness, “I need to get back.  I have to see him.”

Merlin squeezed his shoulders.  “I know.  I’ve organised it.  We’ll go straight away, as soon as Lancelot and Gwaine come back with our packs and some provisions.  That okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to go with Elyan and those knights on horseback, or walk back the way we came where we left the horses?”

“I don’t know.”

Merlin thought about it quickly.  “Right.  We’ll send three of the knights with Gwaine and Lancelot to get the horses we left.  But if they’re not where we left them that way will take longer, so we’ll go with Elyan on horseback now.  Nathaniel will give us a guide.  We’ll get there in time, Arthur.  You’ll see him before he dies.  Gaius’ll keep him alive for you, I promise.”

“Yes.”  The prince’s eyes were wet.  “Merlin, I said goodbye to him before we left.  Gaius said his heart was failing.  I didn’t tell you.  He’s been so sick, we knew he’d never recover.  He’d given up on life and didn’t want to be here any more.”

“I’m sorry.  We shouldn’t have left.”

“I wanted to, I wanted to get away from it all, just for a while.  I just didn’t know when it’d happen.  But I thought it’d take longer, we’ve not even been away for a week.  I thought he’d have more time than this, Gaius said it could be months, not days.”

“We’ll get there, Arthur.  It won’t be too late.”

The prince pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, Merlin shook his head and put an arm around Arthur’s shoulder, pulling his friend into a tentative hug.  They stayed like that for a few minutes then Arthur stepped away, dropping the purple blanket by their feet.

He nudged it with his boot, his head down, quiet for a while.  Then he looked up and said sombrely, “Merlin, I don’t want to go on horseback.”

“Not on horseback?

Arthur hesitated then asked, “What about teleporting?”

Merlin stilled.  “Teleporting?”

“Yes, the one where you crash into things.  Can you take me with you?”

Merlin shook his head back and forth, pinching the bridge of his nose.  He said sincerely, “I can’t, Arthur.  It’s too dangerous.  I’ve only done it a few times, I can barely control it when I’m on my own, I’m not risking your life in it.  And how would you explain to Borin and the other knights that you’ve just disappeared off somewhere with your servant, and everyone else can make their own way back to Camelot without you?”

Arthur shut his eyes for a moment, when he opened them again he didn’t try to hide his anguish. “I want to see him, Merlin, before he dies.”

“I know.  I understand.”  Merlin’s voice was soft, regretful.  “But I can’t teleport with you.  And I wouldn’t even do it myself after the last few days, my magic is much better but it’s a bit sloshy still, I couldn’t use it for something like that, it’d be too dangerous for me too.  I’m sorry Arthur, I can’t.  And before you ask, I can’t take you into my own time for that long either, I could get there myself okay but I can’t keep it around you for a long while, I just don’t have the control for it at present.”

Arthur nodded, his face pained, but he hadn’t given up.  “What about the dragon?

Merlin said hesitantly, “Arthur, what do you mean?”

“I’ve seen you fly with him.  Will he take me, too?”

“You’d fly on Kilgharrah?”

“With you I would.”

There was a long silence.  Merlin looked at the purple blanket covered in druid symbols, lying on the ground between them.  Then he nodded slowly.  “Alright.  I won’t command him, but he’ll take you if I ask.  But not the others, just you.  It’ll take about an hour to get to Camelot but we’ll have to wait until night, or we’ll be seen when he lands.  And we need to think of some way to make sure Borin and the others aren’t suspicious.  Get them to go back the way they came on horseback, and we’ll tell them that we’ll go with Lancelot and Gwaine through the forests.  Percival and Elyan will cover for us, but I’d rather they not know about Kilgharrah either.  They might work out later that we arrived back too quickly but I’ll think of a story for that when I have to.”

Arthur leant his head back against the tree.  “Merlin?”

“What?”

“No.”  Arthur was calm but resolute.  “I want to see my father before he dies.  I want to go as soon as you can get him here.”

Merlin bit his lip and said earnestly, “Arthur.  The knights will see him if I call him now.  And he’ll be seen from Camelot when we land, I can’t do this with him during the day, he’ll be seen from the castle and from the villages.”

He ran his hand through his hair, slightly agitated.  “I don’t have any magic that can hide a dragon’s presence.  I don’t even know if I could land him in the clearing near Camelot without people seeing us, the guards will be watching from the towers, they’ll see him coming a mile away, they may even see us riding on him if it’s a clear day.  We can’t do it.”

Arthur was shaking his head.  “Merlin.  No one can hurt your dragon, can they?”

“No, of course not.  But you know that’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Merlin.  The druids know about you.  That knowledge will filter back to Camelot eventually.”  Arthur put a hand on his shoulder and said with quiet intensity, “You know what I’m asking of you.  It’s time, Merlin.  I won’t let you come to any harm.  And I need to see my father.”

They exchanged a long look before Merlin’s eyes dropped to the ground.  He wrapped his arms around his waist and took a deep breath and said almost inaudibly, “Yes.  What do you want me to do?”

The prince understood, and he was grateful.  “Thank you, Merlin.”

Merlin tried to smile.  “You never say thank you.”

Arthur nodded slowly.  “I should.  Because you’re my rock, I rely on you more than anyone, even if I didn’t recognise it until recently.  And I know I ask more of you than anyone, and I know what I’m asking you now, is much more than ever before.  And it will be only the start.”

Merlin said deadpan, “I don’t know if I fancy being a rock, it sounds a bit thick.”  Arthur smiled slightly, and Merlin asked, “Are you sure, about this?”

“Yes.  I’ve had a lot of time to think about you, and what to do about your magic, and the laws on magic.  My father ...”  Arthur bit his lip, pained, and tried again.  “My father, when he ...”  He shuddered.  “Merlin, I can’t bear to think about my father dying, but I know what it means, it’ll be the catalyst for change, you know what the prophecies say.  And I have to see him, just once more before he dies.  I want to be with him when it happens, and this is the only way.”

“I’ll obey you Arthur, whatever your decision is about what you want people to know about me.  But is the time right for this?  Dragonlord, dragon, magic and a new king, all at once, are you sure the people can handle all that, right now?”

“My people aren’t just those who have no magic, Merlin.  The people in this camp belong to me as much as those that don’t have any of your abilities.  Yes, it’s a lot of change, and all at once, and I know what I’m asking of you.  I’m not preparing the people for a slow relaxation of the rules on magic, I’m asking them to change their views all at once.  But I’m their ruler, and that’s how I mean to rule.  I must care for all my subjects, Merlin, not just those who don’t have magic.  I won’t be exclusive, and I won’t allow for continued endless persecution of magic users.  I thought you’d be happy, isn’t it what you wanted?”

“Of course that’s what I want.”  He looked away.  “It’s so public, Arthur.  Don’t expect everyone to accept me, or magic, as easily as you have.”

“I understand.  But I won’t rule unjustly and with fear.  I need to make my own decisions.”

Merlin nodded.  “Alright.  What do you want me to do, now?”

“You contact Leon, Gwen and Gaius with mind speech.  Tell them I’ve asked you to take us back to Camelot on the dragon.  Make sure Leon warns the citizens that he won’t attack.  Tell him you’re a dragonlord and the dragon is under your control.  And Merlin, I want you to land him in the court yard.  If he’s going to be seen then you might as well land him there, I want to get there as soon as I can.  I have to see my father.”

“Yes Arthur.”  Merlin was uneasy.

It was Arthur’s turn to reassure him.  “Don’t worry.  Trust me, it’ll be okay.  I’ll tell the knights what we’re doing.  Elyan and Percival deserve our honesty, and the other four may as well know now, it’ll make it easier.”

Merlin managed a weak smile.  “Okay.”  He fidgeted.  “Arthur, Ronan has magic.  I don’t think he truly knows it though.  He’s weak, but he’s probably done a few things inadvertently that’ve scared him and made him wonder.  And he’s not at all comfortable about being here.  He’s afraid.”

“Okay.  I’ll watch him.”

Merlin nodded.  “Then I’ll contact Gaius, Leon and Gwen now.  But would you stay with me while I do it?  I’m going to have to use magic to get it to go that far and I don’t want anyone sneaking up behind me.”

“I’ve got your back, Merlin.”

The half-smile Merlin gave him was preoccupied, and the prince watched as his friend walked to the centre of the clearing, then stopped, his back to him.  He was still for a long moment, then his head tipped back and he stretched his arms out to the sky. 

Arthur couldn’t see his eyes, because Merlin’s back was to him, but even he could feel the strange rush of sensation as Merlin released his magic.  He watched his friend with curiosity, then he did see his eyes burning a bright gold, as Merlin slowly turned around in a full circle in the clearing.  Then he stopped, his eyes faded to blue again, and his shoulders slumped.  He sat down on the ground abruptly and Arthur found himself rushing over to him.

“What’s wrong?  Are you alright?”

Merlin smiled weakly.  “That took a lot of effort.  Gwen and Leon don’t have magic so it’s really difficult to contact them from such a distance.  And Gaius is out of practice and not very powerful.”  Arthur was giving him a strange look and he realised what he’d said.  “Oh, yeah, Gaius has magic, your father knows.”  He shook his head when Arthur offered a hand to pull him up.  “I’ll just sit for a minute.  My magic needs to settle down, and I’ll have to do it again.”

“Again?  Didn’t you tell them everything?”

“Yes, but Arthur it’ll be a shock, to Gwen and Leon at least.  They don’t know about Kilgharrah, and Leon was one that fought with you when you thought you’d killed him, I don’t think he’ll be in a hurry to see him again.  So to make sure they take it all in I told them I’d repeat the message in five minutes.”  He decided he might as well tell Arthur.  “And I want to send an extra message to Gaius.  I want to ask him to arrange to fly some white flags over the castle to confirm it’s okay for us to land, if the townspeople are prepared for us, and that there’s no risk to our safety doing this either.  I’m not too keen to find myself seized by the guards because everyone thinks I’ve enchanted you.”

“Fair enough.  But you only want to send that message to Gaius?”

“Yes.  I don’t doubt Leon’s loyalty to you, but I don’t know if he really accepts that I have magic.  I don’t want Gwen involved in this if it doesn’t end well, and I trust Gaius with my life.”  He reached up a hand to Arthur and the prince pulled him up.  “So do you understand, why I want to send this message to Gaius?”

“I do, Merlin, although I don’t think it’s necessary.  But tell him the white flags are kept in the third storeroom on the ground floor.”

“Thanks Arthur.”  Merlin gave him a grateful look then took a few steps away from him.  “You’d better back off a bit, I have to do it again.”

He repeated the exercise from before, this time taking a little longer, and again Arthur felt the rush of sensation as he released his magic.  And again when it was over, Merlin seemed to be in a hurry to re-acquaint himself with the ground.  Arthur sat down with him this time, a little concerned.  “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yeah.  Just a little dizzy.  It’ll pass in a minute.”  Merlin glanced at the knights a dozen or so yards away through the trees.  “Uh oh.  There’s dissent in the ranks already.  Just wait until they hear me call Kilgharrah.  And then see him.”

Arthur sighed.  It looked like Borin and Ronan were getting into an argument with Percival and Elyan, Arthur noticed Ronan’s hand was resting on the hilt of his sword.  Henry and William merely seemed a little surprised and curious.  Nathaniel stood off a little to the side, wary of them all.

“I’d better go across and deal with them.  Just wait until I’ve spoken with them until you call the dragon, alright?”

“Yeah.”  Merlin nodded but grabbed onto Arthur’s arm before he could leave.  “Um.  Arthur?”

The prince gave him an enquiring glance and Merlin continued, “Uh, this is a little awkward.  I don’t want to leave you, not for a moment, but I’ve got to, I have to see Morgana too, before we leave.  I can’t just go without saying goodbye.  I have to see her, I need to.” 

Arthur was almost ashamed to think he hadn’t given her any thought.  Uther was her father too, no matter how much she hated him.  “Sure, Merlin.”

“I won’t be long.  I’ll find her as soon as I’ve called Kilgharrah, it should take him at least fifteen minutes or even an hour before he arrives.  And anyway it’s probably better you explain the horrors of me to the knights without my presence, they’ll have questions they want answered, particularly after I’ve called Kilgharrah.”

“Hey!”  Arthur grabbed hold of the front of his shirt, yanking him towards him, and Merlin stumbled and stared at the prince in surprise. 

“Arthur?”

The prince gave him a little shake.  “Don’t talk about yourself like that, Merlin.  If I ever hear you calling yourself a horror, or a monster, or something like that again, I’ll put you in the stocks, _and_ I’ll supply potatoes, got it?”

Merlin scratched his head.  “Uh, right.  But hold on, the next time you insult me, does that mean .. you know, it’ll be your turn in them?”

“Sometimes you really are a complete idiot, aren’t you Merlin?  Now let me deal with my knights.”

Merlin was aware he was grinning foolishly but couldn’t help himself, Arthur rolled his eyes and went back to his men.  Merlin watched them, he didn’t know what Arthur said but Borin and Ronan dropped their antagonism after a few minutes, Ronan even looked relaxed.

Merlin picked up the purple blanket off the ground and watched as he spoke with Percival and Elyan too, when the two knights snapped their heads his way he guessed they’d just been told about Kilgharrah. 

Sure enough, Arthur waved a hand in his direction and called out, “Right Merlin, they’re ready.  Call your dragon.”

 


	22. Chapter 22

Merlin folded his arms across his chest.  This was a little awkward.

He hadn’t summoned Kilgharrah before in front of an audience.  Or at least he hadn’t summoned him _knowingly_ in front of an audience.  It would probably look a little dramatic to them ... and then a total anti-climax when the dragon failed to appear instantly.  He’d much rather do this privately, but he couldn’t think of a polite reason to suggest that everyone clear off.  And a further glance towards the camp revealed about a dozen druids lining the top of the embankment.

Merlin grumbled to himself, wishing he could use mind speech to call Kilgharrah, and headed towards the centre of the clearing, wondering again how the dragon had managed to fit himself between the trees, there wasn’t much space at all when his wings were outstretched.

The call was short and to the point, but still louder and far more powerful sounding than he would have liked, he knew some of the druids would understand from the call, the depth of magic it took to be able to call upon a dragon.  _“O drakon, I_ _ácíege on unc_ _nú, æledléoma bryne, harké tó mé!  Mín fæderencyn!”_

Right, that was done.  He wanted to find Morgana, but Gwaine and Lancelot were heading back down the bank with all their gear.  Iseldir was with them, he was carrying two bags that Merlin assumed were provisions for their journey.

Merlin waited for them, then the four of them headed over to Arthur and the others.

Gwaine passed him his pack.  “Merlin, mate.  What’s happening with the dragon this time?  You called him?”  Gwaine wasn’t missing the particular interest from four of the knights.

“Yeah.”  Merlin waited for Arthur to elaborate, but the prince had taken his pack from Lancelot, and moved off to the side to exchange a few words with Iseldir and Nathaniel.  Merlin shrugged.  “Um, Arthur and I are taking a ride back on Kilgharrah.  It’s quicker.”  He tried to make it sound like it was nothing out of the ordinary but he didn’t miss the shocked disbelief on most faces.  Apparently Arthur hadn’t seen fit to enlighten them on that arrangement yet.

“You’re riding the dragon back?”  Gwaine stared in astonishment, then laughed, he hadn’t seen Merlin ride the dragon.  

“Yes!”  Merlin looked over to Arthur for help, as someone else asked him the same question.

The prince wasn’t paying attention, so he reverted to mind speech and Arthur swung around like he’d been tapped on the shoulder, answering without thinking, “What do you mean Merlin, come and rescue you?”

Oh.  The prince realised his mistake at the look of confusion on several of the faces and the exasperated chagrin on Merlin’s.  Despite his anxiety about his father, it bought a reluctant grin to his face.

Merlin hissed in an undertone, but everyone heard anyway, “That was _mind speech_ , Arthur, and you’re not meant to respond _out loud_ , can’t you tell the difference yet?”

Arthur felt an odd surge of affection for his friend, and covered it by teasing, “So you’re a damsel in distress, huh Merlin?  But what is it I’m meant to be rescuing you from?”  He reached over messed up Merlin’s hair, and Merlin ducked and tried unsuccessfully to bat his hand away.

Gwaine laughed again, and even Lancelot and Elyan couldn’t hide the grins on their faces.  Borin, Ronan, Henry and William were very interested in this exchange. 

Merlin willed the red tinge on his face to disappear.  “Forget it.  Look, someone needs to get the horses out of sight before Kilgharrah gets here.”

“Will the dragon eat them?”  It was Ronan that had spoken up.

“No.  But they’ll be terrified of him.  It’s best that they don’t see him, they’ll be spooked for days.”  Merlin hoped that was the end of the questions.  “Um, I’ve got to go, I have to do something.  I’ll be back soon.”

Ronan spoke again.  “Don’t you think you should stay?  What if that dragon turns up and you’re not here?  If you’re a dragonlord, then you’re the only one that can control him.  What’ll he do to us if you’re not around?”

Merlin shrugged and said loud enough for Arthur to hear.  “Arthur’s pretty good with him.  Apparently they’ve had lots of _interesting_ conversations together lately.  He’ll mind him for me.  And he won’t harm anyone.”  Merlin was still carrying his pack, he dropped it on the ground beside Arthur.  He switched to mind speech again.  _“Arthur?  I have to see her.  I won’t be long, okay?”_

The prince nodded, and Merlin turned and headed in a completely opposite direction to the camp, mainly because there was a large scrubby tree nearby which he could conveniently disappear behind, while he slipped into his own time.  There were just too many people, too much interest, and too many questions, and he needed to find Morgana now before Kilgharrah arrived.

 

**********************

Merlin had assumed Morgana would still be asleep, she’d never been an early riser when she’d lived in Camelot and he hoped that hadn’t changed as he didn’t want to have to search the camp to find her.  He was at her tent before it occurred to him that maybe she mightn’t be there, but when he cautiously pushed aside the flap and peered inside he saw she was up and dressed, sitting on her neatly made bed, brushing her long dark hair.

Her back was to him but something must have alerted her to his presence, because she turned around, and the quick flash of startled happiness on her face when she saw him made his breath catch.  He stilled, and something in the vicinity of his heart thumped heavily, and his blood felt felt thick and sluggish.  Time stood still as he watched her, and she watched him back.  What he felt for her was both new and raw and compulsive, yet completely familiar. 

He cleared his throat restlessly, needing her.  “Morgana.”

She looked at him questioningly and he crossed the tent, taking the hairbrush from her hands and dropping it onto the bed.  He hadn’t planned to kiss her, he’d come here to tell her about her father and make his farewell, but now kissing her and touching her seemed the most natural thing in the world.  The yearning he’d felt for her was stronger than before and completely overpowering; destiny had a lot to answer for.

He found himself sliding his arms around her waist, then his hands slipped down further, caressing the smooth curves of her tight black pants.  He pulled her up against him, reaching for her mouth, and she wrapped herself around him and kissed him back passionately.  He held her against him with one hand while the other slid into her hair and he undid the braid she’d half completed.  His fingers twined through her hair, rearranging things to his satisfaction so her hair was loose again.

He murmured huskily, “Your hair’s beautiful Morgana.  It’s smooth and it’s soft and it smells good and I love it.”

Her lips curved against his mouth, she was smiling, he knew he sounded like an idiot but he didn’t care.  He took advantage of her distraction to kiss her again, and then he let her mouth go and pressed a kiss on top of her head, enjoying the odd feeling of completion and peace that came from holding her in his arms. 

He sighed and stroked her back, moulding her against him, and remembered why he’d come to see her.  He felt a twinge of guilt that he’d not said anything straight away, he really should stop kissing her all the time, sometimes they had to talk.  He said quietly, “Morgana, I came to say goodbye, we have to go.”

She smoothed her fingers over the back of his neck.  “Did something happen?  Why so suddenly?”

He held onto her.  “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to prepare her.  “Some of the Knights of Camelot arrived not long ago.  They’ve bought word that Uther is gravely ill, Morgana.  He’s not expected to live much longer.”

“I see.”  She lowered her head, he couldn’t see her face.

He said gently, “I’m sorry.  Your father is dying, yet you must stay here.  You can’t see him.”

She shook her head.  “It doesn’t matter, I don’t want to see him, Merlin.”

“Morgana ...” 

She shook her head again and laid her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist until they crossed over his back.  “Don’t be sorry, Merlin.  I’m not, you must know that.  I feel nothing for him now.”

His chest rose and fell against her head as he sighed, she knew he was disappointed by her response.  She asked, “What would you have me do, Merlin?  Pretend I feel something that I do not?”

“Of course not, but I don’t believe you feel nothing, Morgana,” he said earnestly.  “To say you feel nothing isn’t true, you know that.  You’re a passionately emotional person, you feel something.”

“I don’t know what I feel!  But you know what, I’m _glad_ he’s dying!”  She pushed at his chest, her eyes flashing a warning, but he wouldn’t let her go. 

She struggled half-heartedly and he murmured, “It’s alright.  Don’t pull away from me, Morgana.  I’m not going to reject you because we differ in opinion.  I think that’s going to happen a lot between us.  I just want to understand you.”

She stilled, then the tension seeped out of her and she buried her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist.  “Sometimes, I think you already do, Merlin.”

He played with her hair in long gentle strokes.  “And?”

“I am glad, it’s what I wanted.”

“But is that all?”

“I’m still angry with him, Merlin!”

“And you’re hurting still, too, aren’t you?” he asked astutely.  “You’ve let hate and fear be your guide in your dealings with him because you were sure he’d reject you if he ever found out about your magic.  But that wasn’t what you wanted, not at first, was it?”

She whispered, “I don’t want to be hurt.  I don’t know, Merlin!  I don’t want to feel anything else, I just want him gone.”

He kissed one of her eyelids, then the other.  “You need to face up to your feelings about him, Morgana, not just the ones you want to feel but the ones you’ve suppressed for years.  Your feelings for him are behind every action you’ve taken over the past few years.  You can’t let these emotions fester inside you, you have to understand what drives you and decide if that’s really how you want to live your life.  You must learn compassion and forgiveness, Morgana, as a way of moving forwards.  You can never be whole when you’re not happy in yourself.”

“You’ve always been a more compassionate person than I have, Merlin.”

“No.  Don’t think I’m perfect, Morgana, I’ve made mistakes that have cost innocent lives.  And I’ve killed many, to protect and save what I must.  I let my own fear rule me, when I should have helped you when you were first discovering your magic.  I poisoned you.  But human life is always important, murder must be a last resort.”

She stretched up and buried her face into the crook of his neck, and he felt her lips brush over his skin. 

“Morgana?”

“Mmm?”  She pressed a kiss against the sharp bone of his shoulder.

He murmured, “Are you listening or exploring?” 

She stopped and looked at him.  “Both Merlin, I can multi-task.”

“What if I can’t?”  He pulled her against him again, and shut his eyes for a moment.  “And I’m sorry because I can’t stay with you now.  I want to, but I can’t.  I’m worried that you’ll grieve for him and for you, for things that might have been and once were, and I can’t be with you for that.  I don’t want to leave you alone, yet I must.”

She frowned and lifted her head, “No, I’m okay.”  She didn’t want to discuss it further, she couldn’t, she needed time to herself to digest this news.  She pulled his head down, he found her mouth willingly and they kissed again.

She lost herself for a moment, then sighed and touched his cheek.  “But I did want to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”  His eyes were half-lidded, sleepy.

“The dream I had, when I sought you out at the campfire.”

Oh yes.  “And you slept in my arms?”  He kissed her eyelids again and the tip of her nose, giving in to their shared desire for physical closeness between them, sometimes actions were more reassuring than words. 

She nodded and pressed her lips back against his neck.  He shivered so she did it again.  “Merlin, that vision I had.  I saw Arthur and Gwen, and you, and me.  We were all watching two children playing together.”  She hesitated, then said, “The children, one child was theirs, and the other ... the other child was ours, Merlin.”

She expected surprise or shock, but instead he hummed noncommittally so she kissed his neck again, he shuddered and his arms tightened around her.  “You were smiling at me, Merlin, and I was happy.”  She pulled back and shaped his face with her hands.  “I don’t know how to be happy, I haven’t felt truly happy since I was a child.  But I was happy, then, in that vision.”

He reached for her again, nudging her mouth apart with the tip of his tongue, tasting her.  “I want you to be happy.”  He sighed and nibbled on her bottom lip, and decided he may as well admit to it.  “And I know, already.”

“What?”

“I know, Kilgharrah already told me.”

“What?  The dragon?  He told you what?”

“He told me about us, about the family we’ll have.”  He smiled at her surprise and kissed her again.  “Our destinies are entwined.  We’ll work it out Morgana, we’ll get there eventually.”

He watched her face as he rucked up her shirt and placed his palm against her flat stomach.  The significance of the gesture was more intimate than a kiss.  Colour burned her face and he saw and smiled.  He stroked her belly with the pad of his thumb.  “This attraction between us is something I never expected.  But it’s real, Morgana.  And if you trust me I won’t let you down, never again.”

She touched his face.  “You told me it was just magic, and it’d go.”

He kept making tiny circles with his thumb on her belly, he was beginning to recognise the veiled desire on her face and it excited him beyond measure.  He relaxed his hold on his magic, letting it caress her.  “It’s stronger than magic, now.  You know it.  It’s fate and there’s no point trying to fight what’s between us, it’s real and it’s honest.  I know you feel it too.  I know it, and I trust it, it’s our destiny to be together.”

She reached for him again but he hadn’t finished.  “I can’t pretend it’s going to be an easy road for us but we’ll get there, together.  I don’t want to say I ... that I love you, not yet because it’s all too new between us, but God, Morgana, I _am_ falling in love with you, I need you, and I don’t know how I could live without you now, and part of me feels it’s been that way forever.”

She breathed against his mouth and he kissed her deeply and fiercely and then pulled back before the fog of desire could overpower him, tangling his hands in her hair.  “I don’t have long.  I’ve called Kilgharrah, Arthur and I are flying back on him.”

Her eyes widened.  “You fly on the dragon?”

He smiled at the wonder on her face.  “Yeah, it’s a lot of fun.  Cold though.”  He placed a hand over her hip, hooking a thumb over the edge of her pants.  “Look, Kilgharrah is a bit prickly around you at present, but that’ll change eventually, maybe I’ll take you for a ride on him one day, if he agrees.”  He kissed her mouth.  “After all, you’re going to be the mother of a dragonlord one day.”

Her cheeks glowed and he laughed.  “What, can’t you imagine it?”

She dipped her head and looked at him challengingly.  “No, Merlin, that’s not it.  I can imagine it all too well.”

He gulped and she gave him a predatory smile, which he liked all too much.  “Ah ...”

She traced a finger across his lips.  “Merlin, how long do we have?”

“What?”

“Before you have to go back to Arthur?”

He swallowed.  “Uh, from now?  Maybe ten minutes, not more than that.”

“Well?”  She gave him a wicked smile.

“Ah.  No, no.  We shouldn’t!  We need to spend more time talking.”

She picked up his hand and stepped backwards towards the bed, an eyebrow raised.  “But not right now.”

He breathed deeply, “Uh, Morgana ...”

“Merlin, your virtue will be safe enough.  We’ve only got ten minutes.  You can keep your clothes on ... if you want to.  Except that jacket, it comes off.”

His mouth twitched.  “You don’t like my jacket?  You took it off the first time we kissed.”

She tugged at the material.  “No, _you_ took it off.  Right before you flipped out.”

“I didn’t flip out!”

She scoffed, “Oh, really?”

“Well, maybe a little.  Or a lot.  But you know what?” and before she knew it she was flat on her back on the bed with him looming over her.  He whispered, “You’re right, talking’s completely overrated,” and then his mouth slammed down on hers and the laughter died in her throat as she was too busy kissing him back.

He was urgent and frantic, she realised he’d been hovering on the edge as they talked and now all the restraints were off, he rucked up her shirt again and slid his hands over her bare stomach, moving higher as they kissed until he found what he was looking for.  She gasped into his mouth as his hand shaped the soft mound of flesh, and he broke off their kiss to nuzzle his mouth into the crook of her neck, releasing a burst of magic with every flick of his tongue against her collar bones.

Her heart was pounding way too fast, he used the tip of his tongue to taste the rapid pulse beating against her neck, and then he kissed his way down to the opening at the top of her shirt, untying the ribbon with one hand as he pushed the thin fabric aside.

He looked up then, his eyes dark and swirling with gold, and he asked hoarsely, “Morgana?”

He didn’t need to ask, she moaned and her hands clutched his head, twisting through his hair, and she arched up against him as he pressed a trail of moist kisses around the top of the soft valley between her breasts.  Then he turned his head to the side and she trembled in his arms as his mouth found what his hand had been shaping.

Her soft sounds inflamed him, and his hands and his mouth and his magic weaved them further into this sensual cocoon where nothing else existed except the two of them.  Her magic reached out to him and he caressed it as they kissed and touched and discovered.

He wanted her mouth again and he found it, she met his blind passion, rocking her hips against him, and then he shot off the bed and staggered back several yards, stumbling against the table and knocking over a goblet.  He righted it with a shaking hand and said hoarsely, “Uh, that’s ten minutes.  Got to go.”

It took a moment but then she sat up and smoothed down her shirt, aching but satisfied by his agitation.  She said guilelessly, “Are you sure?”

He swallowed and tried not to look at what was revealed by her unlaced top and she picked up the end of the ribbon and played with it, giving him an innocent look.  “Something wrong, Merlin?”

He cleared his throat.  “Uh, no.  Not at all.”  His hair was standing up in all directions and his shirt had been pulled half out of his belt. His chest was rising and falling with every breath he took and his hands were clenched.

She relented and tightened the laces on her top, then picked up his jacket which had been discarded beside the bed.  She held it out to him, balancing it on the tip of a finger.  “Do you want it?”

His eyes flared at her innuendo, and he didn’t move, and she smothered a smile and stood up, he took a step backwards and bumped against the table again.  The goblet fell over again, he picked it up and she noticed his hands were still trembling.

“Here.”  She held out the jacket and helped him on with it, he let her fiddle with the collar but when she tried to unbuckle his belt to re-arrange his shirt, his hand closed over her wrists.

“Uh, _I’ll_ do that.”  He let her go and she didn’t bother to hide her smile from him this time.  His mouth twitched in answering amusement.  “Do you have to look quite so pleased with yourself?”

“You’re the one that wants me to be open with you, as to how I feel!”

He laughed and suddenly relaxed.  “True.”  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him.  “No more kissing, Morgana, just let me hold you.”  He sighed.  “And I have to go.  Arthur needs me.”

“I understand.”

“I hope you do.  Because I need him too, Morgana.  And while he needs me he’ll come first.  It’s my destiny to support and protect him, to be his friend, and I couldn’t resist that compulsion even if I wanted to.  And we are going into a time of great change, he’ll need me more than ever before.  I can’t always be here for you every moment, right now.  We both have other things we need to do, you’re about to start on the path to learning about healing magic.  All this doesn’t mean we can’t be together, it just means we can’t be together all the time, right now.”

He willed her to understand, and was relieved to see that she didn’t appear upset.  “Spend time with Thea.  Listen to her.  Learn.  Talk to her about Uther, about your fears, perhaps you’ll find they’re not what you’d imagined them to be.  I couldn’t be the person I am today without Gaius, maybe Thea will be to you what he is to me.”

He kissed her forehead chastely.  “And Kilgharrah told you to trust me, Morgana.  He’s a pain in the neck sometimes, but he does usually have something wise to say amongst all his cryptic remarks.  So remember what he said to you.  And I promise you I’ll come back soon, alright?”

He shaped her face with his hands and she nodded.  “I don’t know how often I’ll be able to get away, but I’ll never leave you for more than two weeks, I promise you, Morgana.  I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay each time, but I’ll be here, okay?”

She pulled his head down again and he capitulated to the probing intimacy of their kiss, but when her hands slid up under his shirt to caress the bare skin of his back he groaned and pulled back.  “We can’t, I’ve got to go.”  He tugged her hands out and held them between his, taking a step backwards.  “Morgana, you’ve dreamt our future.  You know what’ll happen.  Help me make it a good one.  Love, trust, friendship, happiness – that’s what makes the world go round, not fear, hate and revenge.  Embrace what’s good.  You can shape the future you want with me, and for our child.”

He smiled at her and said meaningfully, “And you have two years and nine months to work it out.”

 _“What?”_

He kissed her quick and deep and longingly, with all the emotion he felt for her that he wasn’t ready to say.  Then he stepped back and said innocently, “Didn’t you dream that part?  That’s our timeframe, Morgana.  Now I have to go.  Really.”

He left before he could be tempted to touch her again.

 *************

 _Translation: “O drakon, I_ _ácíege on unc_ _nú, æledléoma bryne, harké tó mé!  Mín fæderencyn!”  OH DRAGON, I CALL ON YOU NOW, FIRE BURNING, HARKEN TO ME!  MY KIN!_

 


	23. Chapter 23

It wasn’t totally necessary, but Merlin was in a hurry, so he slowed time so he could travel through the encampment unnoticed again.  He didn’t use his own time, the knights didn’t have magic so he couldn’t release it near them, he stayed within the earth’s time and slipped quickly back to Arthur within a few seconds of leaving Morgana.  He wouldn’t be in it for long, so he knew he’d suffer no ill effects from it.

He thought about reappearing again from behind the bushes he’d originally disappeared from ... but then ... no, he decided he wouldn’t.  Arthur needed some cheering up and a distraction from his thoughts, and a decent fright was definitely one way to do it.  Kilgharrah hadn’t arrived yet, and it looked like Arthur was in the middle of some sort of discussion with all the knights and Nathaniel and Iseldir.  Merlin positioned himself right beside Arthur, where he’d certainly be noticed, and waited for the right moment to reveal his presence.

 _“Why, you ... God, Merlin!”_  Arthur yelped and nearly jumped out of his skin at his sudden reappearance, as did everyone else except Iseldir, who just lowered his head and seemed to be struggling to smother a smile.  Borin took two steps back and crashed into Ronan who nearly fell over.

“Really, Arthur?  I’m not, but ... well, if you think so, then thank you.”  Merlin was quite pleased with himself.

Arthur shook his head in exasperation, Merlin knew the prince was trying to hold back a grin.  Arthur asked, “Was that fun?”

Merlin neatly sidestepped a punch to the arm.  “You mean my dramatic reappearance?”

“Yes, _Merlin_.”

Merlin managed a nonchalant shrug.  “Actually yes, it was.  Except perhaps when Borin over there reached for his sword, but as you can see he didn’t actually draw it, so since I’ve still got my head, yes it was enjoyable.”  A sudden thought occurred to him.  “Oh no.  You did mention the magic part to them, didn’t you?  Not just the dragonlord thing?”  He gestured at four of the knights.

“Yes, Merlin.”  Arthur rubbed his hand over his mouth and tried to frown, his grin was escaping.  “You’re in good mood.”

Merlin shrugged.

“I gather things went _well_ , on your ... er, _errand_?”

Merlin remembered just how well things went, and shifted uncomfortably.  He decided somewhat regretfully that teasing Arthur was not always prudent.  “Um, yes.”  Arthur looked ready for another round, but then ... Merlin sensed the change in the air that always came with Kilgharrah’s presence.  “Ah, perfect timing.”

“What?”

Merlin jerked his head in the direction of the clearing and said unnecessarily, “He’s here.”  He bent down and picked up his pack, hooking it over his shoulder.  He passed the other pack to Arthur, the prince copied his movement.

He weaved through the trees, Arthur walking with him, and they reached the small clearing just as Kilgharrah landed.  The knights and Nathaniel and Iseldir all followed, but stopped a safe distance behind them under the canopy.

The gusts of wind from Kilgharrah’s landing settled, and the dragon peered behind them at the Knights.  “The Knights of Camelot have multiplied, young warlock.”

Merlin nodded, registering but ignoring the shocked surprise behind him, and glanced at Arthur.  “We need to return to Camelot immediately Kilgharrah, and I need you to take us.”

“You’re speaking in plural Merlin.  Who is _us_?”

“Me and Arthur.”

The dragon lowered his head, his golden eyes on his proposed passengers.  He said lightly, “You’re asking me to carry someone who is not a dragonlord?  And for what reason, Merlin?”

Merlin wasn’t sure he wanted to tell him why, but he couldn’t see a way out of it.  He said reluctantly, “Uther is dying.  We need to get there quickly.”

The dragon’s voice rumbled.  “Is that so?  You wish to see the tyrant before he breathes his last.  I cannot see why, we should all rejoice in his death.”

Merlin was annoyed.  “Kilgharrah, enough!  Now is not the time for insults.”

“Very well.”  The dragon bowed gracefully, his eyes moving to Arthur who was regarding him steadily.

Merlin’s voice had cooled.  “Will you take Arthur in safety?”

“Of course.  I have no wish to harm the Once and Future King.”

Merlin gave the dragon a long look.  “Thank you.  Then we need to leave now.”  He turned to Arthur and said quietly, “Arthur, sorry about that.  He doesn’t like your father.”

Kilgharrah had heard.  He asked mildly, “Would you like someone who sought to murder your entire species, then imprisoned you for twenty years in the bowels of the earth?  There was a time when dragons roamed freely, and were revered by people.”

Merlin was about to respond but the prince beat him to it.  “Dragon, I understand your hatred.  I’m sorry for what my father did to you.”  He took a step forward.  “I’m not him, but he’s still my father and I care for him.  I want to see him, just one more time.”

Kilgharrah regarded Arthur thoughtfully.  “I don’t hold you responsible for the sins of your father, young prince.  My words were ill chosen ... I ... apologize.”

Merlin was surprised.  He said softly to the dragon, “Thanks, Kilgharrah.”

Arthur nodded slowly and Merlin turned to him.  The prince had changed out of his sleep shirt, but that wouldn’t be enough.  “Arthur, pass me your pack.”

“What for?”  The prince shrugged it off his shoulder and handed it to him.

“You’re going to need something warmer on than just a shirt.”  Merlin unbuckled the bag and rummaged through it, pulling out Arthur’s leather jacket.  “It can get freezing when I’m up that high.  I usually fly at night with Kilgharrah, I haven’t flown with him much during the day but even with the sun on us, the speed at which we’ll be flying means the wind will be strong, and it’ll be cold.  I’ll probably need to use a warming enchantment on you, too.  That be okay?”

“Sure.”

Merlin held the jacket up and Arthur slipped his arms into the sleeves. Merlin frowned.  “And maybe another enchantment so you don’t fall off, it can be difficult to hang on sometimes when he banks sharply.”

Arthur’s eyes moved from Merlin to the dragon’s neck, Merlin wondered if he was re-evaluating this flying idea.  Merlin smiled to himself, he had no concerns about Arthur’s safety.  He picked up Arthur’s pack, handing it back to the prince and adjusting the fit of his own pack across his shoulders. 

He turned, ready to make his farewells to the knights and the druids, but then Kilgharrah said ominously, “Young warlock!”

Merlin jumped, he hadn’t heart _that_ tone from the dragon for a while.  He said defensively, “What?”

Kilgharrah was regarding him with offended suspicion.  “What’s in the bag you carry on your back?”

Merlin was puzzled.  “Uh, clothes, supplies, nothing much.”

“There’s something that smells most unpleasant, in there!”

Merlin scratched his head, bemused.  “Uh, dirty socks?”  They needed a wash but they couldn’t be that bad, could they?  He noticed that everyone had taken several steps back at Kilgharrah’s sudden irritation, except Iseldir who hadn’t moved, and Arthur, who had walked forwards to stand right beside Merlin.

Kilgharrah’s rumble was getting louder.  “Perhaps.  Although you know _that is not what I meant_!” 

“Kilgharrah, honestly, I have no idea what your problem is.  Spit it out, why don’t you?”

The dragon stuck his head down to Merlin’s level and snapped, “You have been consorting with wyvern, Merlin!”

 _“What?”_

“There’s something in your bag that has wyvern scent on it.  I do not like it.”

“Huh?”  Then he remembered.  “Oh, yeah, that’d be my neckerchief.  It’s still covered in wyvern drool.”

The dragon growled, “I do not approve of wyvern, Merlin!”

Merlin couldn’t believe this conversation.  “Yeah, I’m starting to get the idea.  What’s wrong with them anyway?  This was just a young one, he followed me everywhere, he was kind of endearing for a wyvern, wasn’t he, Arthur?”  He looked over at Arthur, the prince seemed to be having difficulty keeping a straight face.

Arthur shook his head.  “Oh no, you’re on your own, Merlin.”

Kilgharrah was peeved.  “Young warlock, of course he followed you, you’re a dragonlord.  But wyvern are foolish creatures, they’re pests, they’re completely unreliable, and not at all intelligent.  They can’t even communicate with humans properly, like dragons can.  You should not encourage them.”

Merlin tipped his head to one side.  “I don’t know.  Their lack of speech is looking very appealing right now, Kilgharrah.”

A hiss of smoke escaped out the side of the dragon’s mouth, he flicked out his tail irritably, it hit a tree.  The trunk of the tree fractured and with a slow creaking groan, it fell against its neighbour, the branches of both shook then settled.  Leaves feathered through the air to the ground.

Merlin gave the dragon a long look of disbelief, and waved away the clouds of smoke in the air, coughing slightly.  He shook his head and said soothingly, “Alright, alright, Kilgharrah, now calm down.”  He reached up to the dragon’s head and rubbed his hand up and down the side of his face, and added placatingly, “I’m very sorry, I promise you I didn’t seek them out, they found us.  I won’t go looking for them if you don’t want me to.  Now no huffing, no puffing, and absolutely no more breathing fire and burning trees, or knocking them over either.  You’ll end up scaring everyone, and then Arthur will be cross with me.”

“Hmm.”  The dragon allowed the scratching to continue.  “Very well.  But I will not take that neckerchief anywhere unless you command me, and I do not like it when you do that, Merlin.”

 _“Fine!”_   Merlin shut his eyes and massaged his temple, and then took several deep, calming breaths.  Then he dropped his pack on the ground and rummaged through it until he found the offending article.  He dragged it out and stalked across to Gwaine, thrusting it at him.  “Please, Gwaine?  Will you take it back?  It’s my favourite.”

Gwaine held the neckerchief gingerly between his finger tips.  “Anything for you Merlin.”

Borin, Ronan, Henry and William had been watching this exchange with wide-eyed amazement and complete disbelief.  Even Percival and Elyan were astonished.

Merlin met Arthur’s eyes, the prince tried to bite back a smile.  Merlin’s mouth twitched in response, he shrugged and turned back to the dragon.  “Right, Kilgharrah.  It’s gone.  Now, are we done?  We need to get going.”

They made their farewells, Merlin got a hug from Lancelot, a hug and very messed up hair from Gwaine, a couple of friendly punches from Percival and a slap on the back from Elyan.  The other knights seemed awestruck and after one quick glance at them he avoided looking their way.  Kilgharrah lowered his head, but Merlin usually found it easier to use a touch of magic to climb onto him rather than trying to hold onto his scales to pull himself up, so he grabbed onto Arthur’s arm and elevated them both without warning onto Kilgharrah’s back.

Arthur recovered from the surprise of being suddenly airborne fairly quickly, Merlin waited for Arthur to get his balance and pointed to the dragon’s neck.  “It’s easier to sit between his spikes, Arthur, it’ll give you something to hold onto.  So sit right behind me, actually, no.  You sit in front so I can keep an eye on you.”

“What for?”

“I need to watch you in case you start to fall off.  Although I suppose I could try a binding spell, but those sorts of enchantments don’t work that well with Kilgharrah, I can’t actually bind you to him.  But I could bind you to me, yeah, that’s what I’ll do.”

Arthur’s only response to that was a raised eyebrow, so Merlin motioned to him to climb up the dragon’s neck.  “Don’t touch the end of his spikes if you can help it, they’re really sharp, I’ve cut my fingers on them a few times.  Try holding onto the sides, here.”

He waited for Arthur to climb up up Kilgharrah’s neck, and followed him, it was easy once you got used to it, and Arthur’s sense of balance on Kilgharrah’s neck was better than his own.  Or maybe Kilgharrah was being extra still, he didn’t usually bother being quite so docile and cooperative when it was only Merlin clambering all over him.  “Now, I’ll have to sit right behind you, because it’s easier for me to keep the enchantment focused if I’m actually touching you, I don’t have to touch your skin so I’ll hold onto your arm.  But don’t panic if I let you go, I won’t let you fall, okay?”

Arthur muttered a response, Merlin was sure he heard something suspiciously like “fussing” in it, but he ignored it and once the prince had settled himself between two spikes near the top of the dragon’s head, Merlin sat down behind him.  He took hold of the prince’s jacket and incanted a binding spell as well as a warming enchantment.

Kilgharrah didn’t bother to ask if they were ready, he never did, he seemed to take it for granted if Merlin was sitting down and still for half a minute then he was ready to fly, and today an extra passenger made no difference to this routine.  The prince let out a stifled yelp as the huge beast lurched into the air, Merlin barely had time to register the amazed expressions on the faces below before they’d cleared the tree line, and in his stomach he felt the familiar swooping thrill he never grew tired of, as Kilgharrah took them higher and higher into the air.

 

******************

The flight to Camelot was the most amazing experience of Arthur’s life, better than the thrill of winning a battle, better than succeeding in a quest, better than his first kiss with Gwen, better than anything he’d known.  Merlin was right, the wind was strong enough to make Arthur’s eyes water, and the air was chilly, but the heat from the warming enchantment spread out from Merlin’s hand and ran right through Arthur’s body.  And the prince was enjoying himself far too much to worry about something as trivial as the cold.

He settled back against one of Kilgharrah’s spikes, with Merlin’s hand loosely gripping the edge of his jacket.  He was aware there was a stupid grin plastered across his face that would have rivalled one of Merlin’s, but the prince was too excited to care, and anyway there was no one from court here to see his lack of decorum.

He found himself whooping with the sheer thrill of it all as they passed above and through clouds, not at all bothered by Merlin’s laughter from behind him.

“Everything is so different up here.”  Arthur couldn’t believe just how different his kingdom looked from high up in the air.  So vast yet so tiny, and seemingly flat, the hills only gentle undulations in the ground.  “I’d do this every day, if I could!”

Merlin laughed, and patted Kilgharrah’s neck.  “Someone mightn’t be agreeable to that, Arthur.  Doesn’t like being a horse so he says.”

The dragon swivelled his head sideways, trying to see them, and he banked and lurched and his two passengers screamed in mock fear, but he wasn’t really trying to throw them off, and they both knew it.  While Merlin hadn’t been able to bond Arthur to Kilgharrah so he didn’t fall, he was able to bond the prince to him, and the link between dragon and dragonlord was always strong in flight, and Merlin had no concerns about falling, even if Kilgharrah tried a display of acrobatics.

The prince twisted around, nudging Merlin and gesturing off to his left.  “Look over there, the Northern Plains go on forever, you can’t even see where they end.  I had no idea.”  Merlin grinned and the prince pointed again.  “And the Darkling Woods, they’re shaped so differently to they way I thought they were from the ground.  The trees are are so tiny from here.  And look,” he couldn’t stop, and Merlin was amused at his open enthusiasm, he’d never known Arthur to babble.  “Do you think that’d be the White Mountains way over there as far as the eye can see?”

“Yeah, Arthur, I think so.”  Merlin didn’t think Arthur really required a response.  And in truth, he was almost as fascinated as the prince, riding on Kilgharrah was something he never grew tired of, it was the best part of having magic, and riding him in daylight showed a completely different world to the one he saw at night.  And riding Kilgharrah now, and sharing the experience with his friend, was simply amazing.

They travelled for almost an hour before Camelot appeared on the horizon, Arthur was first to spot the towers and seemed to think he’d won a competition because he turned around again and smacked Merlin’s arm, pointing it out to him jubilantly.

But Merlin was puzzled, the closer they approached to the castle, the more it looked like they were about to fly into the path of a mass of multiple colours and light, something that appeared to be a rainbow.  He knew rainbows were an illusion that moved with the eye, but this one was different, it appeared to be originating from Camelot itself, and it wasn’t moving away as they flew nearer.

It was magic, Merlin knew it, the closer they flew, the more he could sense the sheer power humming through it.  It wasn’t magic like his own, and it didn’t come from the earth, it was different and unusual, magic from the heavens or something otherworldly. 

And even Arthur sensed something, although of course it could just be that he was aware that rainbows weren’t meant to be stationery either.  “Are you doing that, Merlin?”

“No!”  He spluttered, and waved away a stray bug he’d almost swallowed that was attracted to the light show they’d just flown into.  The dragon’s scales rippled and shimmered with colour.  “It’s not me!  Kilgharrah?”

“No, young warlock, this is not my doing.  I do not make magic rainbows!”  The dragon sounded insulted by the accusation.

They flew on, the dragon flying inside the magic light path, they passed over the villages and fields surrounding the castle and then they were there, they all looked down, the rainbow ended in the centre of Camelot’s courtyard, almost like it was guiding Kilgharrah directly to their landing spot.  But the dragon didn’t land, he veered off track, and began circling the castle. 

Arthur asked again, gesturing at the vibrant stripes of light.  “Merlin, are you sure you’re not doing this?”

Merlin wondered if he should be offended.  “I told you it’s not me, it’s too clichéd, I’m not doing it!”

They circled the castle three times, Kilgharrah gliding unhurriedly on the updrafts of air, and occasionally giving a lazy flap of his wings.  Dozens of white flags were fluttering from every vantage point, Gaius must have arranged for every white sheet in the storeroom to be flown.  The towers were manned from every lookout, it seemed the whole of Camelot and the surrounding villages had crowded the battlements to see this spectacle.  Several children were crammed together near one opening overlooking the main entrance;  they waved and pointed enthusiastically as the dragon passed them, and Arthur and Merlin waved back.

Kilgharrah slowed and began to circle the courtyard, the windows overlooking it were jammed with faces, the crowds lining the courtyard stretched out into the streets of the town.  There was a large open space in the centre of the courtyard where the rainbow ended, the space was surrounded by knights and guards, although none seemed to be pointing weapons.  And then they began to descend, the dragon flying through the rainbow to this designated landing space, and the crowd hushed suddenly, and the only thing to be heard was the sound of Kilgharrah’s wings beating through the air as he turned to land.

And they were there, the dragon settled slowly onto the ground, his head still high in the air, high enough that his two passengers were almost at eye level with all the faces in the windows on the upper levels overlooking the courtyard.  The crowd was silent and watchful, most staring with open fascination and amazement.  The rainbow bathed the dragon and his two passengers in a festivity of colour, in front of Merlin, Arthur was shimmering and otherworldly.  Merlin looked at his own skin, and wondered if anyone else felt like he did, he felt like he was being immersed in layers of magic.

Arthur’s head moved from one side to the other as he viewed his subjects, then he turned around and said quietly so only Merlin could hear.  “Look at them.  They’re not afraid.”

“Yeah?”  Merlin hoped it was true, and wondered if it was something to do with the rainbow.  It might be, but it might be more than that, maybe they could accept this, and him.  He hardly dared to hope.

Arthur put a hand on his shoulder.  “Thank you, Merlin.”

Merlin felt the smile growing on his face, Arthur mirrored it, then they both noticed a movement from below, and looked down.

Leon stood right in front of the dragon’s head, and he was weaponless and relaxed, smiling at them.  He craned his neck upwards.  “Welcome back, _both_ of you.”  Merlin wondered if his choice of words was deliberate.

The dragon began to lower his head so they could jump off easily, but Arthur called out, “Wait!”, and Kilgharrah drew back, twisting his head questioningly.

They were back again at eye level with the crowds lining the second storey of the castle, and Arthur turned around to Merlin, hooking an arm over one of the spikes on Kilgharrah’s neck, a slight smile on his face.  He said quietly, “Let’s do this properly.  Can you use your magic to get us down?”

Merlin was amused.  “Now who’s the one going for the theatrics, Arthur?  Isn’t the rainbow enough for you?”

The prince lightly smacked the back of Merlin’s head.  “Well?  Can you?”

By answer, Merlin stretched his hand out to Arthur and offered it, palm up.  Arthur took it, and Merlin swung one leg over Kilgharrah’s neck so he was sitting sideways.  “Arthur, are you ready?”

“For what?”

“We’re going to jump!”

Arthur looked down, the ground was a long way away.  His grip tightened on Merlin’s hand, he nodded, and Merlin fought the urge to duck his head before straightening and allowing his magic free reign, facing the crowd through eyes that flared a brilliant, rich gold.  He tugged Arthur’s hand, they jumped, and it was a simple matter for Merlin to slow their fall.  They floated down slowly, there was plenty of time to take in the gasps of astonishment and exclamations of wonder from the people watching. 

They touched the ground with no more force than they would have if they’d just taken a single step, Arthur stumbling a little as if he’d expected a harder landing.  Merlin’s eyes faded to blue, and as their feet touched the cobblestones of the courtyard the rainbow erupted into a a kaleidoscope of colours, blazing in a rush of warmth and light and magic, dispersing through the crowd, through the streets and inside the buildings, into the castle and up high in the air.

No one seemed fearful at the obvious display of magic, and Merlin smiled to himself at destiny’s sheer power, she was not going to be thwarted, not now, not ever.  He took a few steps forward, reaching out to brush the dragon’s head, instinctively pressing his forehead against him for a moment and shutting his eyes, and whispering a quiet word of thanks, unaware of the interest and surprise his actions drew.

“Merlin?”  Arthur’s voice was quiet, Merlin opened his eyes and smiled at the prince, Leon was waiting for them both.

Leon stepped forward, and bowed his head to Arthur, before placing his hand on the prince’s shoulder, murmuring a few quick words of greeting.  Then he turned to Merlin, and to Merlin’s complete surprise, put an arm around him and gave him a quick one-armed hug in the manner of Gwaine, then ruffled his hair and grinned at him like he was a valued little brother.  “Thanks for bringing him back safely, Merlin.”

Merlin nodded, overwhelmed, not only by Leon’s acknowledgement of him in front of everyone but also the complete lack of hostility from the crowd.  He darted a few quick glances around then studied his feet, a little uncomfortable with the attention that he suddenly realised wasn’t just focussed on Arthur.

Arthur seemed to be taking this all for granted.  “My father?”

“He’s still alive, sire, but it won’t be long now.  Gwen and Gaius are with him.  He’s not aware of much.”  Leon cleared his throat and said in a low voice, “We think he’s been waiting for you.”

Arthur swallowed, and Merlin saw the dichotomy of feelings in him, part of him was devastated as he knew his father was about to die, the other part hadn’t forgotten the sheer excitement that came from riding Kilgharrah and seeing his kingdom from above, and knowing this too was his destiny.

Arthur put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, Merlin sensed it was not only to show the prince’s support of him, but to steady himself.  The prince waved to the crowd, and the cheering begun, quickly swelling to a crescendo.  They walked away a few steps, towards the castle, but then Arthur stopped, and Merlin stopped with him.  They turned around.  They waited, the crowd hushed.   The dragon was watching, his eyes calm and golden, Leon was standing nearby.

The prince called out, loud enough for most in the courtyard to hear, “Thank you, Kilgharrah.”

The dragon bowed, deep and graceful, a gesture he’d only shown previously to Merlin.  His response rang through the castle.  “You’re welcome, young prince.  Mind well my dragonlord, and you’ll have my loyalty.”

Merlin and Arthur exchanged grins at the astonishment on many of the faces;  yes, the dragon could talk.

And as Merlin looked around with Arthur’s hand gripping his shoulder, at the cheering crowd, the dragon in the courtyard, and the kaleidoscope of colours shimmering on everyone, he knew his time had come, his and Arthur’s, their destiny had arrived, the time long prophesied, of Emrys and the Once and Future King.

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THE END

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, that’s it, hope you enjoyed the journey, this fic could have gone on to be the neverendingstory, and it felt like it some of the time I was writing it! It was completed before Season 4 (I couldn't write Morgana in the same way now, post S4) and I had no idea it would be so long when I first started. This is the first fanfic I’ve written in about 10 years, it’s been a blast, although my family have missed seeing as much of me as they once used to, I keep disappearing to get this done. Thank you so much for comments or kudos, they are much appreciated.
> 
> Finn.


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